


Crazy & Cracked

by lainathiel



Category: Vikings (TV), Vikings (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, Several years after season 2, Vikings, helga has died and floki is left with a child, i am sorry ok but he gets his happy end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1720160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lainathiel/pseuds/lainathiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astrid finds herself alone on a beach of an unknown land after a shipwreck. She remembers almost nothing. She meets someone who helps her piece herself together, and she returns the favor. </p><p>That someone is an eccentric, lonesome shipbuilder she would've surely shied away from had she had her wits about her and anything to lose. He's crazy and he's cracked, and after a while she knows it's more than she could've hoped for. </p><p>And she shall start a life again. And life shall lead her to a crazy adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost or Found

**Author's Note:**

> This won't be season 3 of the show. This is basically AU. Alternate reality! As for season 3, some deaths may not happen in my story, and some events may take place differently! So rejoice! Hah.

When Astrid opened her eyes, she could remember almost nothing. Quite literally - all she knew was her name and that she had been sailing somewhere, with some people. She could not remember neither faces nor names. Names of people and of significant places were all but lost to her. She had no idea where she set off from and she had no idea where she set off to; and she most certainly had no idea where she ended up. She looked around but all her eyes could see were woods that seemed endless. She was lying on a beach, and next to her was an almost broken barrel she used to save herself. She could not believe her luck in the damned shipwreck, but those thoughts were fleeting - it was difficult to think about luck when stranded on a piece of land she could not recognize. Initially stunned, she now started feeling fear - fear so strong it filled her chest and threatened to make it burst. She was not afraid of the place she was in, nor of anything the woods could possibly hide - she was afraid of herself. She tried so hard to remember anything at all, she could feel her mind hurt. She massaged her temples and when her hands fell in front of her again, she saw blood on them. She was bleeding from her head and she couldn't possibly have cared less. She had to remember.

But she could not, even after waiting a few hours there, just sitting on a rock trying to stay calm as she commanded herself to. _It will just take some time_ , she thought to herself, _I need to stay calm. I will surely remember._ But she could not. Not even after a few hours, she could not. She felt like crying. She could cry over the loss of something she did not even understand, but she was sure she had suffered a grave loss. And she felt she could cry, if only she'd had the strength. She was starting to feel dizzy and she knew she had to do something about that if she was to survive.

The sun had set long ago. She wasn't dried up yet, not in all those layers. She couldn't care enough to take her clothing off. And now the night had fallen and it grew cold and she was still wet, shivering in the wind. ''I am Astrid'', she whispered to herself, as if to sum up everything she had put together, ''I come from the North. Somewhere north is where my home is. I don't know what home is. I know that I am young.'' 

She paused to place her hand on her sword-hilt. She almost caressed it like a baby - it was all she had. It was a wonder she had salvaged it, she thought, and it was just as much of a wonder it didn't sink her down. She recognized it, it was the most familiar thing to her in this new, dark, secretive environment. She remembered it. ''And I know that I can fight.''

She decided to look for a decent place to spend the night. All she needed was a bit of seclusion to keep her from the wind and from unfriendly eyes. Making a fire would be the next step, and then finding drinking water, for she knew she would surely faint and fall without some water to drink, all the while losing blood. She also knew she'd probably hit her head again and never again open her eyes. Though her survival instincts were strong, that thought appealed to her for a moment. To die would be bliss. But she never knew how to give in, that much she was aware of, that much she remembered. She simply couldn't. Her entire being was against it. She could not give up on herself - whoever she was. So she set out into the woods, with all the strength she could muster.

It wasn't long before she saw a light in the distance. She froze immediately, thinking she had hit her head too hard against a rock. Was she hallucinating? She blinked a few times, and when she realized the light was still there no matter how many times she blinked, she decided to close her eyes for a good long minute. And then she opened them. And there it still was. The light. Perhaps a torch or a few. It bewildered her - for some reason she did not know, she thought she was surely trapped somewhere deserted. But that light could only come from a human. But who could live in such a place? 

_Surely not anyone normal_ , she thought, so it was probably better for her to stay in the woods, make her own little camp. Whoever dwelt over there could have been a rapist and a murderer, for all she knew. She pondered over it for a while. She was tempted, and she was conflicted. Maybe she should try her luck. Maybe the gods held her in their favor. She did survive quite a lot. She was given a second chance. Maybe this is the gods' doings too. Maybe this light is the path upon which they placed her. The gods... she remembered them. She remembered Freyja. The only mother she had now. 

The feeling in her head intensified, and she was even more dizzy, and she knew it was just a matter of time. She could not stand there and think for much longer. She could use help. She needed help. There was warmth in between her temples and it was tempting to give into it. But she refused. Feeling her knees grow weak, she moved by resting against trees, one at a time. And as she walked, for ages as it seemed to her, the light seemed closer, but still too far away. She wasn't sure she could last. But she had to.

When she reached her destination, she felt she could die right there. She had made it and it was all that mattered. It was as though the whole struggle wasn't about surviving at all; it seemed to be about achieving something, anything she could know and remember as something of hers, something that belongs to her and her life and her past. With this she was no longer an entirely blank page. 

She was standing in someone's property. There was a house, and unmistakably a workshop next to it. There was cut wood and tools and Astrid was sure this was home to a carpenter of some sort. There was a small boat too, freshly made, it seemed, tied carefully so that it doesn't float away. But it wouldn't, the sea was dreadfully still now - still and sinister.

This all took barely a few moments to observe. Before she knew it, she was surrounded by darkness again.


	2. Riddles

When Astrid next opened her eyes, she was in a bed. She was warm and comfortable and... there was a small child in the room with her. When she suddenly turned her head to call for the girl, a headache burst through her skull like a smash of a war-hammer. Her hands went to her head instinctively, and she felt bandages under her fingertips. Someone had helped her, immensely. 

''Hey there, little one,'' Astrid called out softly to the girl playing with her toys in the corner, her voice hoarse from almost no usage, ''What is your name?''

A wide grin appeared on the little girl's face upon hearing the voice of her guest. She strutted over to the bed in which Astrid lay, and then wiggled her way on top of it. Astrid could not help but smile at the little stranger. The girl was beautiful, with large blue eyes, and dark blonde hair that reached her shoulders. Her smile could light up the darkest of chambers. 

''My name is Angrboda,'' the child said sweetly. ''And what is yours?''

''Astrid,'' she whispered. 

_Angrboda... why name your child after Loki's first wife? And why... do I remember every story of the gods but not a single name from my past?_

Astrid sighed. ''Where are your parents, Angrboda?''

''Father,'' she said, ''Father is outside. And where is your father?''

''I don't know,'' Astrid said, ''You sure are smart.''

''I am,'' Angrboda grinned again, with an eye-smile in addition, before she got off the bed and took her toys and left off somewhere. Astrid wondered if this place was safe enough for a child to live in.

She was anxious to meet whoever had helped her this much. She wanted to thank the man for the bandages and the fire and the furs she was tucked under. She didn't have to wait long.

When the said man entered the room, he startled Astrid to say the least. He slammed the door open, and the moment she saw him standing there with a small pile of logs in one arm and a short ax in another, she knew he wasn't exactly normal. The way he stood, the way he moved, the way he gestured - at first she thought he was drunk. But she soon knew all too well that he wasn't; his tics and occasional little spasms were done in complete sobriety. The man was wearing war paint on his face around the house, circles around his eyes and lines across his cheeks - what could be crazier than that?

''You are awake,'' he said in a high-pitched voice, and Astrid soon realized that the intonation of his voice would never be a constant - never flat and usual. It was almost like singing - up and down, up and down.

He dropped the logs where they belonged and left the ax, but it wasn't long before he replaced it with a dagger in his hand, unsheathing it from the back.

''Now,'' he approached her, playing with his dagger, ''Who are you?''

''My name is Astrid,'' she said shortly and almost immediately, and her voice felt so hoarse she thought it would crack. She wondered if she should be afraid.

''Just... Astrid?''

''Just Astrid,'' she said in almost a whisper.

''I don't think I should believe you now, Astrid,'' he said, spinning his dagger around his fingers playfully, right in front of Astrid's face. She gulped.

''You should speak,'' he said, ''I would not like to kill you right after saving your life.''

''You ask and I will answer,'' she finally said, and she tried to make herself sound as determined and fearless as she could.

''Where do you come from, stranger?''

''I do not know.''

''You do not know?''

''I don't... I do not remember.''

''You do not remember?'' he asked yet again in bewilderment, his voice as high as he could make it get.

''I woke up on the beach near your house after a shipwreck. That is all I know.''

''And where did your ship crash?''

''I do not know. The water carried me away.''

Short silence. The man seemed to be thinking it all through. Scratching his chin with his dagger, he never once took his eyes off hers. And she refused to look away.

''Why do I believe you, Astrid?'' he asked after a while. Astrid almost could not believe he did believe her. But it was as though he was reading her, seeing right through her, behind her eyes and into her mind.

''Because I am telling the truth,'' she said.

''Hmm...'' he muttered, still scratching his chin with the blade. He squinted his eyes a bit, as if searching her for any possible lies hidden behind her face. He kept watching her for a few moments more, before he abruptly turned away. Astrid thought it odd, and she thought 'odd' was a gentle word to describe this man.

''Don't think about getting up, you're still very weak,'' he said, now stirring a pot on the hearth. Astrid suddenly became aware of the smells and the rumbles of her stomach. 

''But you can sit up,'' he added, now handing her a bowl of stew.

''Thank you,'' she said quietly, but he did not answer - he got to filling another bowl right away.

''Angrboda,'' he called out to the child. The girl cutely made her way from the storage room, carrying a doll in one hand, before she sat herself next to her father. Astrid ate in silence, and watched them. 

The girl couldn't have been more than three years old, as she concluded. She ate mostly by herself, spilling a bit of the stew every now and then, and her father helped her occasionally - not because he needed to, but because he liked it. Every time he fed his daughter a spoonful, he'd giggle like a child himself, and she'd giggle in return. They'd whisper to each other and giggle, and Angrboda would spill her stew and her father would tickle her and she'd laugh and he'd laugh too, and they made an entire mess the man would later have to clean, but he seemed to not care at all. Astrid was not even aware of the smile on her face.

''She is beautiful,'' Astrid said, now that the odd man had put his daughter to sleep.

''She is,'' he confirmed with a smile.

''I... You never told me your name,'' Astrid said, trying not to sound demanding and rude.

The man paused for a moment. ''Floki,'' he said.

''Like Loki,'' Astrid said, but it was only a thought she did not intend to speak out loud. It was more of a question in her mind too, than a statement.

''You know our gods,'' he said instead, sounding almost bewildered.

''They're my gods too,'' she said, ''I am from the North. I know that much. And I remember the gods. At least, I remember most of it...''

Floki looked at her again, squinting his eyes as if trying to read her once more. ''How could you have forgotten everything?''

''I do not know,'' she answered, ''I hit my head very hard, I guess. You seem to be a healer. You'd know better than I.''

''I've never encountered anything like it,'' he answered rubbing his chin. ''But by the gods, I will find out,'' he added with a glint in his eyes, and Astrid knew that even if he were to try and find out what's wrong with her and a way for her to remember, it wouldn't be for her, but for his own ambitions. She didn't care. She only wanted herself back. Whoever she was.

''You are not afraid of me,'' Floki mused out loud, as if finding it all odd.

''No, I'm not.''

''Even I'm afraid of me sometimes,'' he said, and Astrid was sure the sentence wasn't quite meant for her, but for himself. She didn't answer.

For the rest of the evening, Astrid tried her best to fall asleep. She did not mean to be a bore or a burden or noisy. So she tried to sleep and leave the man be. For quite a while, she couldn't get herself to drift away. So every time she opened her eyes, she'd watch Floki do the chores around the hut, clean, put away things, mix some herbs, do some chanting, do some more of the chores before he himself was ready to go sleep. Astrid realized she was in the only bed Floki had.

''Floki,'' she said after a few hours of silence; it almost startled him as he was preparing the furs on the floor. ''I will sleep on the floor,'' she said, trying to get up.

''Don't move,'' he said, ''You will sleep on the floor in a few days when you are well.''

''But-''

''I am not being kind, Astrid the Stranger. I am being practical.''

And so it was. In the morning, he was gone immediately after breakfast, leaving the child to play with her dolls. He came back for lunch, and then went off until the evening again. Astrid felt bad for the child. Leaving her alone all day like that - surely she wanted to spend some time with her father. If that girl kept playing with her dolls all day long, she'd go as mad as Floki!

But the child seemed to have befriended Astrid quicker than the woman even realized. Angrboda found her way onto Astrid's bed, and one of her dolls found her place in Astrid's hand. Before she knew it, Astrid was in another world with Angrboda - a world of fair shieldmaidens and handsome dragonslayer kings and dwarves and riches and beautiful dresses and distant lands and foreign languages. Time passed quickly like that, and Astrid felt quite a bit like a child herself. She was happy to pass the time, and make the child happy too. What she also managed was to exhaust her, so Floki had no troubles putting her to bed later.

Floki seemed to be only coming in for meals and to check on his daughter. And ever since the moment Astrid opened her eyes that first morning, she could not help but wonder about Angrboda's mother and whatever had happened to her. It was all almost too much to even leave her enough time to ponder over her own past and her own problems. The pain in her head was still there, but slightly easier to take. It wasn't so much a pain as it was pressure - like a huge rock placed on her forehad, pressing her down into the earth. She didn't feel as weak thanks to the food and water; and she couldn't wait to be strong enough to go and take a nice warm bath. She didn't stink due to the salt water that spat her out onto the beach that day, but she could not wait to wash her hair.

The next day, Floki didn't immediately leave the hut. He stopped to mix some herbs and burn some oil and whatever he was chanting, Astrid was sure his healing involved magic. He placed the ground herbs onto her wounds, and bandaged her head again.

''It will heal soon,'' he said, before he kissed his daughter's forehead and then left.

''Angrboda,'' Astrid called, ''Where does your father go?''

''Outside,'' she said, taking a wooden dagger and smashing it against a cloth-doll.

''He doesn't play with you much, does he?''

''He plays with me,'' she said, ''But he's busy now.''

''What does he do?''

''He builds ships.''

It made sense to her - ship-building did take quite an amount of time. But he was still a father to this child.

''Does he build ships all the time?'' Astrid asked.

''Sometimes,'' she said, her eyes never leaving her toys, ''When uncle Ragnar asks.''

''Uncle Ragnar?''

''Mhhm. Uncle Ragnar comes, and he asks for ships. Daddy builds ships. And they go together with the ships. And daddy comes back and gives me presents.''

''Presents?''

Angrboda nodded before she got up and almost wobbled as she walked over to a small chest where she kept her toys. She dug out a golden circlet, and Astrid's eyes widened, for that was certainly a piece of jewelry only a Queen or a very rich Jarl could have. She understood then. He raided with a warband. And she was almost sure she had raided too. She didn't quite remember, she had no exact memories of the places she raided and with whom she did it - but she simply knew she had done it.

Angrboda placed the circlet on her head and twirled around happily. ''Daddy says only queens wear it,'' she said, ''I am a queen.''

''Yes, you are,'' Astrid chuckled. 

She had so many questions, she did not know where to start. Not counting the ones she kept asking herself about her own past, she had so much to yet find out about the place she ended up in. Who was Ragnar? Where was this place? Where did they raid? What happened to Angrboda's mother? 

But what intrigued her most was Floki himself. Astrid thought that even if she had a hundred years with the man, she still wouldn't be able to truly get to know him. He was the most odd, most mysterious person she had ever encountered. Even if she remembered all the people from her past, she was sure there would be no one to match Floki. He was a living riddle. A riddle that, for some reason, she really wanted to solve.


	3. Remember the Name

A week had passed and Astrid was burning with questions. It was a week before Floki informed her that she was now strong enough to walk around on her own, but not too much, as he warned. She was still to sleep in the bed for a few days more, he said. Astrid wanted to protest, but she felt as though he indeed was not doing it out of kindness, so she remained silent on the matter. She still felt obliged to repay him out of honor, so she decided to help as much around the house as she could, now that she could.

When she checked the wounds on her head for the first time by herself, she saw that they never were too big in the first place, but any wound to the head could be fatal as she knew very well. They almost healed, as they were closed up, but she still needed to be careful. It was time for a bath though; she could not wait an hour longer. So after giving Angrboda a bath (which she thought would be one less thing for Floki to do when he comes back), she was entirely soaked that it was barely necessary for her to take a bath at all. The child splashed around and laughed absolutely restlessly, and it was a struggle to get her all cleaned up, but Astrid didn't tire or find it annoying - she laughed wholeheartedly. She gave the child a snack afterwards and put her on the bed with some of her toys before she got to cleaning up all the water which was where it wasn't supposed to be. Then she finally made a bath for herself. 

It seemed to drain all the stress out of her, days of weakness and sickness evaporating from her very bones. Nothing was as pleasant as washing her hair and massaging her scalp after so long and so much, and she thought she might even fall asleep there if not careful, and then get sick again, sleeping in water turned ice cold. So she sat more upright in the wooden tub and opened her eyes. She looked to the bed - Angrboda was sound asleep hugging a cloth doll.

It was quite late that night when Floki came back. He looked tired, but with a glint of happiness in his eyes that never left, no matter how exhausted he was. He loved ship-building, and even a blind man could see that. 

Astrid was sitting next to the hearth, her hair still a bit damp from the bath. Every now and then she'd look towards where Angrboda was sleeping to check on her, and smile. The girl looked so content and peaceful that Astrid decided that, should they not be able to remove her and place her in her own small bed, she'd stay up that night and definitely not wake her. She'll sleep sitting on the floor. She really did not mind. 

When Floki entered, Astrid instinctively hushed him. He frowned and started to ask about his daughter, but just as he opened his mouth, he saw her sleeping in the bed. He looked at Astrid with bewilderment. 

''She's asleep,'' Astrid stated needlessly.

''Did she-''

''She ate well, and I gave her a bath,'' she quickly said, ''She was so tired she passed out where I placed her.''

Floki seemed taken aback by it all, and he took another moment before he nodded in understanding. 

''You must be tired,'' Astrid said, ''You work on those ships for entire days long.''

''I'm not tired,'' he said in his high tone, ''I am driven by the gods. They give me the strength. It's the hunger that's the problem. I'm always hungry.''

''Here,'' Astrid smiled and handed him a bowl of warm stew and a piece of bread. He only nodded in gratitude as he took it, seating himself cross-legged on the opposite side of her.

''Among all the names I no longer remember,'' Astrid spoke after a short silence, ''I feel like I should know Ragnar. It sounds like a name I should know. But I cannot remember.''

''Have you remembered anything?'' he asked.

''No,'' she said, ''Names have started appearing in my mind, but I do not know to what or to whom they belong... names of people that simply echo through my mind but they mean nothing to me.''

Floki looked at her like she was a riddle set up for him by Loki himself. Astrid didn't decipher anything similar to compassion in his eyes - only wonder. She felt that awful overwhelming feeling of loss and being lost again. It had subsided in the few days prior to that night, but now it was back and it was taking over her. She tried to shake it off, tried not to think about it. She was so confused it almost physically hurt. Floki said nothing. He took another spoon of his meal.

''So who is he?'' Astrid spoke again after a silence, ''Ragnar. Angrboda calls him uncle. I feel like I should know him. He seems important enough that you're building all those ships for him... Who is he?''

''Ragnar Lothbrok,'' Floki said with what Astrid identified as admiration in his voice, ''has been King for three years now.''

''Oh,'' Astrid uttered, and she felt almost foolish for asking all these questions. But it wasn't her fault and she had to know. ''Is he... your brother?''

Floki giggled his usual madman giggle. ''No. But closest thing to a brother I've ever had.''

Astrid nodded as though it made most sense and was the most usual thing. She could not quite picture this crazy man before her as the King's closest and best friend.

''I don't know if I'll ever remember,'' Astrid said, hugging her knees, ''I don't understand what the gods want from me. If this is the fate they set up for me, I really don't understand.''

''Do not question the gods,'' Floki said, his voice fluctuating. ''You don't understand now but one day you might.''

''You have done so much for me, Floki. You saved my life, and you let me stay here a while, in your home. I shouldn't ask of you a thing more, but I think I have to.''

Floki squinted his eyes, and Astrid knew that meant a question. A silent 'What is it?'.

''I might never remember a thing, so you have to teach me,'' she said, ''If I don't remember, I'll never be able to go where I came from. So you have to teach me about this place, should I be forced to stay. I cannot go on not knowing the name of the King.''

Floki watched her a few moments, before he nodded. ''Alright,'' he said, ''I'll tell you everything you should know. Just in case you don't remember.''

''Thank you!'' she exclaimed in almost a whisper. He only nodded, saying nothing. 

Silence again.

''Why are you still helping me, Floki?'' she asked, ''If not out of kindness.''

''There is more than one reason why I'm helping you,'' he said, ''When I first saw you in front of my house lying in a pool of blood, there was no reason for me not to help you. I'm crazy, but I'm not a bad man.''

Astrid nodded, wanting to express an 'Of course', for he definitely wasn't a bad man, and she didn't want him to think that she thought him a bad man. But she said nothing, wanting him to continue.

''Then when I saw that you truly don't remember a thing, I realized you were no threat, so I let you stay. And I've never encountered such a sickness before,'' he said, pausing for a moment, his fingers dancing in the air as though he was casting a silent spell.

''I am healed now,'' she said, ''You could tell me to leave. But you haven't done so.''

''Ehh, you're not much of a burden,'' he waved off, ''You've paid it all off by taking care of my child.''

''Still, I am ashamed. I shall go in a few days. I'll walk to the next town.''

''You may walk away when you're completely healthy again. I don't leave my work unfinished.''

~

The next day, Floki did as promised. He told her about Ragnar and Aslaug and their children, and Kattegat. His story was detailed enough, and he even mentioned Ragnar's former wife, and the raidings and the sequence of important events in history. Astrid listened, and nodded, and barely spoke, except when she came up with a new question. Angrboda was sitting in her lap, sometimes listening, sometimes braiding strands of Astrid's dark blonde hair. Astrid didn't mind. She felt like a child herself, learning about the world for the first time.

Floki seemed to be done with his ships. That is why he wasn't working that day, and that is where the glimmer of happiness in his eyes the night before came from. The sun was setting when Astrid asked to go see them. Angrboda wouldn't leave her alone; and Astrid felt touched by how quickly and how strongly attached the child grew to her.

''Floki, they're amazing,'' Astrid said in complete awe. Four brand new ships were in the water, fastened to the land. They were big, and strong, and absolutely beautiful. It was nothing like Astrid had ever seen before, she would have surely remembered if otherwise. With a smile and a nod of permission from Floki as he held his daughter's hand, Astrid climbed on board on one of the ships. She traced her fingers over the intricate carvings and the serpent head. She was astonished.

''Where are you sailing?''

''To the West.''

''When?''

''Soon enough.''

~

The names in Astrid's head grew louder as time passed. She wanted to place them so badly, but she was still unable to. Names of places came to her, yet she could not think of what place in Norway exactly was her home. Names of people came to her - Dagr, Oswald, Olaf, Brona, Asbjorn - but all were still floating in a mist which shrouded all memory.

But what terrified her most was this inexplicable presence of new gods, other gods. It terrified her beyond reasoning, and she tried to push them out of her mind, even as these gods started having names, and she started remembering them. But she could not explain them. She could not understand how she knew about these deities and why they had come for her. She tried to fight it off. She was starting to remember, surely she'd get all of her memory back. And then it'd make all the sense, and she wouldn't be as terrified. _Yes_ , she thought, _fight these thoughts off. There's no need to think too much. Calm yourself, Astrid. You'll remember. You'll find your way._


	4. Meet the King

''Mother!''

Astrid woke up violently from her dream, shouting. It took her a few moments to realize where she was, and when she did, she quickly looked around to see if she had awoken anyone. Angrboda was sound asleep, to her relief, but Floki was up and awake. 

''I'm sorry I woke you u-,'' she started to say but couldn't finish her sentence as tears made her throat almost swell and she choked on what she tried to fight back. She couldn't fight it back - her cheeks were quite uncontrollably and suddenly completely wet from a turmoil of feelings that threatened to destroy her if not sorted out. She started sobbing, violently, reaching for air, and Floki looked at her in complete bewilderment, scowling, before he got up and brought her a glass of water. It calmed her down a bit and it became easier to breathe. Floki looked at her still, not asking anything as she sniffed and hiccuped from the previous abusive lack of air. It took her another few moments to calm down. He looked at her with question in his furrowed eyebrows, and she said:

''I remembered.''

Floki's eyebrows furrowed even more.

''You remembered?'' he asked, almost in disbelief. He was intrigued beyond expression. ''Just... like that?''

''In the dream. I don't remember... everything, but... I remembered my parents. And my brother... some friendly faces and places,'' she said, trying hard not to fall back into crying. She rarely cried, and these weren't tears of weakness or sadness, but of utter shock. What was happening to her mind was confusing and overwhelming. For a moment she thought she saw compassion in Floki's eyes, behind all that bewilderment.

''I also remembered the other gods,'' she added, ''and now I understand it.'' 

She said that with slight reluctance, and she fought the impulse to clench her jaw and close her eyes as if expecting a blow. For the time she was staying there she learned a few things about Floki - and two things that stood out the most were his love for ship-building and his devotion to the gods. She had heard him say awful things about people who believed in anything else but their gods, and she noticed the distrust in his voice when he spoke about that Christian priest who lived among them. Even though Astrid judged people too, she never held that much resentment.

''Other gods?'' he asked, ''What other gods?''

''My mother was not of the North. She was of the Russ, a Slavic people on the East. They have different gods there,'' Astrid said quietly, ''I've had these names floating around in my head for days and I could not remember to whom they belong.''

''Which gods do you believe in?'' Floki asked. He did so emphasizing all the right words carefully, and to Astrid it sounded like a test - one she had to pass in order not to lose the one person she knew (at least to an extent) in this foreign world. But she would never lie about such matters, and she did not need to.

''I've lived in the North all my life,'' she said, ''I was born here, and I grew up with our gods.''

''Good,'' Floki said, now scratching his short beard carelessly, ''I couldn't have anyone offend the gods in my home.''

''Floki, my mother's gods aren't false gods,'' she said and when she saw him frown and open his mouth to speak she quickly added an explanation, saying it swiftly before he could even utter anything. ''They're the same gods! They just call them by different names.''

He frowned. ''Why would they call them by different names?''

''They simply do,'' she shrugged, ''It is a different land, with different customs and languages. It's not really a bad thing. At least I've been raised not to think it a bad thing.''

''Then what do they call Thor?'' he asked, with an interest that resembled that of a small child learning new things. His eyes glimmered with it, and Astrid felt relief that she had managed to wiggle her way out of that tricky situation.

''Perun,'' she answered, ''Perun is the name of the god of thunder.''

''And Loki?'' he asked, and Astrid noticed the love and admiration in the tone of that short question.

''Veles,'' she explained, ''Well, he is described a bit differently... but he is the sly one.''

Floki's eyelids narrowed. Astrid could see him taking it all in with interest and reluctantly tearing down the walls he'd built around his faith. The fact that practically the same gods were just called differently didn't seem to him that terrible, all things considered. That he could at least work with. 

''I don't understand,'' he said, after quite an amount of time of Astrid doing the story-telling and him listening. ''You must have been very confused as a child,'' he said, his voice oddly melodious as usual.

''At first, yes, but our parents explained it very well to me and Oswald,'' she said, ''We were told that we had the freedom to choose - Odin or Svarog, whichever we called him. So long as we respected and feared him and honored him. My father loved my mother very much. He never tried to change her ways.''

And so the story simply unfolded from there, and Astrid was surprised that Floki was asking and listening with genuine interest. She told him of her father - Dagr, and her mother - Brona, and how he met her when he raided east. Her father had told her the story many times. Her mother was beautiful, and he intended to take her as a slave, but could not ever bring himself to treat her as one. And she returned his kindness and fell in love as well, and they lived many years in love together, and the proof of their love were Astrid and her younger brother Oswald. She died when they were still very young. Astrid felt a strong longing while speaking of all this, and it suddenly dawned on her that even though she remembered now, the chances of really going back were slim to none. Her heart sank but she did not let it show. They talked and talked into the night, and neither were aware of the moment they drifted off to sleep.

When Astrid woke up, she realized she was yet again alone with Angrboda. The child was awake and playing with a doll, and Astrid approached her, wondering how late it was.

''Have you eaten, Angrboda?'' Astrid asked, and the child only nodded cutely. ''Good, let's go look for your father.'' 

Angrboda took Astrid's hand, her cloth-doll in the other, and they walked together outside. It was a beautiful morning, and very close to noon. The sun was shining, the air was fresh, the water still. When the boats came into sight, they found that Floki wasn't alone. And they did not go unnoticed, for the man standing with him saw them coming right away.

''Floki, who is that?'' the handsome man to Floki's right asked, turning away from the ships.

''A friend,'' Floki almost waved off as if it had been the most irrelevant thing in the universe and it was absolutely absurd that this man was even wasting time asking such a question when there were boats to marvel at.

''A _friend_?'' the man persisted, raising an eyebrow with evident amusement in both his face and voice. Floki ignored it completely, and the man's smile disappeared from his face in a short bit of a moment.

''You know I'd love to see you move on, Floki,'' he said quietly, leaning toward Floki, but Astrid still heard it though she did not understand what he meant. She saw no more amusement in his eyes and the way he spoke, but seriousness and even concern. She concluded he was a friend. Floki paid no heed to his words, still inspecting the boats with his eyes. Astrid felt uncomfortable now that she had reached them and was just standing there, and she wanted to turn away and leave.

''Uncle Ragnar!!'' Angrboda screamed in happiness upon recognizing the man, and she tore her hand away from Astrid's and ran into the man's arms. He caught her and hugged her and raised her in the air and swirled her around with a wide smile on his face.

Ragnar? Ragnar Lothbrok? King Ragnar Lothbrok? How was she supposed to behave around the King, not to mention being a foreigner?

''We were just going to see where you are, Floki,'' Astrid said, a bit awkwardly, ''We should leave you now.''

''Not before I meet this pretty friend of Floki's,'' Ragnar said with a smile anyone would recognize as nothing but mischievous, but the way he talked lacked no courtesy. ''What is your name?''

''Astrid,'' she answered.

''Nice to meet you, Astrid. I am Ragnar,'' he bowed his head just a bit, barely a noticeable nod.

''I have heard many stories about you of course, King Ragnar.''

''I like my friends to call me just Ragnar when I'm not dealing with official business,'' he said, ''And any friend of Floki's is a friend of mine.''

Astrid appreciated the kindness and humble behavior of the King, and it showed that he was once nothing but a farmer indeed, and she respected it, but knew well enough to get out of their way most of the time. She wanted to be helpful, so she took care of Anrgboda, she brought the men food and drink, and while doing so she could not help but overhear talks of raids that would ensue when the time is right and all is prepared. But not yet, as Ragnar said - they were not ready yet. Astrid couldn't imagine what else was needed; the boats looked majestic and quite ready. This was surely going to be a bigger raid, and new lands they hadn't yet visited.

''Well,'' Floki said at nightfall when Ragnar had left and the three of them were once again gathered back in the hut, ''If the King considers you a friend, there is nothing to worry about. You can start a new life here without a problem.''

''I'm not sure I want a new life. Here,'' she said, ''But I might not have the choice.''

''You might not,'' he nodded in agreement.

''What happened to Angrboda's mother?'' Astrid asked suddenly. She had been mustering up the courage to ask for a while, she was madly curious, yet she did not wish to offend him. But now that she had told him personal things, stories from her own life, she felt more entitled to an answer, so she simply did it. She almost regretted it the moment the words left her mouth, but her wish to know was greater. He froze. His hands froze on the ax he was cleaning with a piece of cloth. He did not look up.

''I don't talk about Angrboda's mother,'' he simply said. Astrid wanted to know, she wanted to ask again, but the words caught in her throat, and she couldn't get herself to speak. So they sat in silence, as he resumed cleaning the blade of the ax.

Astrid was surprised to hear Floki speak after an unknown number of long minutes that seemed to drag on as days. She looked up, genuinely surprised, and she watched him as he spoke, but he never raised his eyes from the ax.

''The happiest day of my life was when I married her,'' he said, ''Helga was beautiful. She did not only look beautiful... She was also beautiful in the way she spoke... and the way she treated others... And in the way she kissed, and hugged, and in the way she loved me. She loved me like there was nothing wrong with me at all. I did not understand it, yet she still loved me. And married me. And we had Angrboda.''

It was the first time Astrid was seeing a different side to Floki. She saw pain so terrible there was nothing he could do but fight it back, bury it deep down so that it doesn't show, regardless of the wound on the inside that would never really heal. She was curious, and she wanted to know, yet she still felt bad, guilty even, for causing pain, and she knew something terrible must have happened to Helga, before he even got to that part.

''She was killed,'' he continued, ''About a year after Angrboda was born. Not everyone liked Ragnar being King and me building ships for him to raid new kingdoms. I was the target. Yet the arrow pierced her.''

Astrid felt physical pain in her chest at the sight of Floki. She wanted to comfort him, yet knew not how, and she knew it was impossible, and that she was no one to comfort him anyways.

''I am sorry, Floki,'' she breathed.

''I know she's with the gods now,'' he said, ''But I miss her. I am jealous of the gods. I want what they have.''

''Who did it?''

''A paid mercenary,'' he explained, ''It's who was behind it that matters. And that we haven't found out yet. Probably... a Jarl who wants to rise as Ragnar did. Who knows? There are many who don't like Ragnar being King, but there aren't many brave enough to oppose him. That was not the only attempt.''

''But it was the most terrible one. For you,'' Astrid conceded, frowning. Floki only nodded.

''I am so sorry, Floki,'' she said again honestly, not knowing what else to say, ''And I am sorry I asked you.''

''It's alright, Astrid the Stranger,'' he said in a high tone, ''Maybe Ragnar was right. I need to move on for the child's sake. Now go sleep. I'm going to pass out myself.''


	5. Staying Behind

It was odd at first, living among strangers. Astrid thought she'd never get used to it. She had visited the Great Hall a few times with Floki and Angrboda, and she was introduced to the rest of Ragnar's family, but mostly she kept to herself, even as she ate at their table. 

Astrid was not sure she could even call Floki a friend at first, yet he was the only one there who made her feel slightly less alone, though everyone seemed to be rather friendly. For some reason she had not expected princess Aslaug to be so kind and friendly, and yet she was. Ragnar's oldest son Bjorn seemed to be a fine young man, very kind and well-mannered. So did this Christian priest Floki told her so much about - Athelstan. He didn't look Christian to Astrid, nor did he look like a priest, but everyone still referred to him as that. When she asked him about it, he laughed and said: ''I've made peace with it. It will never go away.''

Another person she had met that she found it quite easy and enjoyable to talk to was Torstein, one of Ragnar's and Floki's closest friends. Other than that, she did not make friends too quickly, not at first. For whatever reason, she did not try to get close to the women. Everything seemed intimidating.

The only person Astrid was wary of was Rollo Lothbrok, king Ragnar's brother. Floki had told her of how he once turned against his own brother and slayed his own friends, almost killing Floki himself. He regretted it after, and recuperated himself, as he said, and Ragnar forgave him, but Astrid could never understand how some people could ever fix their broken trust. She was not the kind. Once it's broken - it's broken, and you have to always be wary. When she first met him at the Great Hall, she did not know what kind of first impression to have. He was by far the biggest among them, and looked most violent, yet his eyes and smile turned meek and warm whenever Ragnar spoke to him with kindness.

She had decided to look for work, anything, to be useful in Kattegat, so she could earn a roof over her head. She didn't mind serving Ragnar's family, though she was assured by Aslaug that they had many servants and no more were needed, and above all it was utterly unacceptable that Floki's friend should be a servant. Astrid knew then that Floki was valued more than any friend, and she wondered just how much he'd done for Ragnar to be so loved.

''I've looked for work needed to be done in Kattegat,'' Astrid said one night, peeling off apples to prepare a light dinner, ''There is place for me on a farm.''

''You cannot farm,'' Floki waved off, ''Do you know how to farm?''

''How hard can it be? Surely I can learn-''

''What is it that you did back home?''

''I- I never worked much. We were rich,'' she explained, ''I learned the basic things-''

''But you cannot farm,'' he conceded, ''So you should stay here.''

''Floki, I cannot stay,'' she said with kindness, her heart filled with gratefulness.

''Why not?''

''Because. I have already spent too much time here. A guest should not stay long enough to become a burden.''

''You are no burden, Astrid. I'm asking you to stay because you help me,'' he said, looking to Angrboda in explanation.

''But I- I do not know,'' she said, ''If you really want me to stay, perhaps... I could work around the house and-''

''What you do for Angrboda is enough,'' he argued, ''She has grown to love you. And soon I will have to leave, and I don't know how long I shall stay... I might not return at all.''

''You're going west,'' she concluded.

He nodded. ''I want you to stay. Live here with us. Take care of her like you have done so in the time you've been here. I would not ask this of you if I did not trust you.''

''You trust me,'' she said, though it was meant as a question, ''I appeared... out of nowhere, a complete stranger with a strange story all bloody and muddied and- You trust me.''

''I do, gods preserve me,'' he shrugged and scratched his head.

''Who do you usually leave her with? When you go raiding?''

''We have only raided once since Ragnar became king... It was a smaller raid. She was with Siggy and princess Aslaug. I'd prefer not to burden them this time. There's enough children there as it is.''

Astrid took a few moments to think it all through. Floki kept reassuring her that she was no burden, and she was starting to believe him. Maybe she would be most helpful right where she was after all. Though it was a bit far away from the marketplace and everything, and it would be hard to live out there, alone with the child... but she wanted to help Floki. He deserved it after all the help he had given her. And that child, well, she would have been lying to herself had she even tried to claim she hadn't grown to love her immensely.

''Alright,'' she said after a short silence, ''I shall stay here. Though it will be odd staying here, completely alone, when you go with Ragnar.''

He only nodded shortly with something that resembled a small smile, before his face turned completely serious and he quickly seated himself next to Astrid. She scowled at his odd change of behavior, but he started explaining it right away.

''If you notice anything... unusual,'' he almost whispered, his face all too close to hers, ''Run. Leave everything and go.''

''What do you mean 'unusual'?''

''I don't know. We cannot live in fear, and yet- One day there may be another attack out of the blue, and I could not... I could not endure,'' he said with pain, and Astrid could not even imagine everything that must have been bottled up inside of him. She could not even fathom all the pain and anger and fear he must have felt, though he hid it very skillfully. All she could do was place a hand on his shoulder.

''I will keep your child safe, Floki,'' she looked into his eyes, ''I will give my life for her safety if necessary.''

He nodded. ''Come.''

''What?''

''Just come,'' he motioned again as he walked away to the far back of the room. He pushed aside a small side-table to reveal a trap door below it. 

''Through here,'' he explained, ''It would lead you through the woods and to a far off bank. Just follow it. There's a boat at the end, hidden.''

''Floki, nothing is going to happen,'' she insisted, trying to comfort and ease his strained mind.

''But just so you know.''

 

~

 

It was a long day; Astrid thought the Sun would never set. She sat on the beach, with Angrboda playing in the dirt next to her, and all she could think about was: ''I wish I never remembered.'' Funny, for just a few weeks ago she would've wanted nothing more. And now that she remembered her home, her father and her brother who stayed behind, her friends - some of them home and some of them lost in the shipwreck, it was that much harder. The feelings of nostalgia would come at evenings like this, when the Sun's rosy fingers seemed to drag themselves on for hours across the sea. Such a long day.

Floki had been absent the entire day. The day of the departure was getting closer, and Ragnar wanted him informed about all the most detailed plans. Astrid would've started getting lonely with Angrboda, hadn't Torstein been the one to often come visit and keep them company. Astrid was thankful for that, and after some time she realized that perhaps she could call him too a friend.

''Torstein,'' she said as she handed him a mug of ale. It was one of the more pleasant afternoons.

''Hm?''

''Does Ragnar really not know? Who attacked, I mean.''

Torstein frowned. He did not like remembering it. ''He doesn't. He has his doubts, of course... but there is no way he can know exactly. Why do you ask now?''

''I'm just wondering,'' she shrugged, ''It could happen again, especially when he's not here.''

''Men have come from different parts of the land to stand guard. They're paid to do it. When we leave, our people will be safe. Don't you worry.''

''But you were all here the last time it happened. Floki told me they all but sneaked up on these territories.''

Torstein shook his head lightly and frowned with more anguish. ''We weren't ready. We let our guard down. But they bore no banner, no sigil... nothing that could mark them as someone's men. It was barely an attack. Mercenaries in the shadows. Here to take down the most important of our men.''

''And Floki was one of them.''

''Without Floki, Ragnar would have to travel to find himself a boat-builder, and he'd never trust anyone as much as he trusts Floki.''

''Who else did they try to kill?''

''Ragnar... Rollo... Bjorn... Hel, all of Ragnar's sons. But they overestimated themselves. There was no way they could have approached his family.''

''So what happened?''

''Bjorn was badly wounded. But other than that, nothing. Some innocent people had fallen but Ragnar was left with no loss. Only with anger.''

''But Floki wasn't so lucky,'' Astrid concluded, though there was no need to say it out loud. Torstein's head fell and he shook it slightly, and for a moment Astrid thought he might cry.

''It was unfair, that,'' he said instead, ''Sometimes I don't understand the gods at all.''

''Floki really loved her,'' she said, ''More than I could ever understand. How can the gods take something like that from a person? It makes me angry to think about, Torstein.''

''I don't know,'' he said quietly.

''I can only imagine how terrible it must be,'' she said, lowering her head on Torstein's shoulder.

''Let's hope we never find out,'' he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, ''It pained me, when it happened. I thought I could cry an ocean. I don't know how Floki made it through that.''

 

~

 

It was a beautiful morning, when the time had come to sail away. The sea was calm and the wind seemed just fine. It was the fairest weather they had had in a while, and Astrid was relieved that it was so, for she was sure nothing bad could ever happen in weather like that. Certainly no shipwrecks. 

The boats were prepared, and the people were helping with things and saying their goodbyes. 

''You know you could stay with my wife and children until we all come back,'' Ragnar said, ''The offer still stands.''

''It's fine, really,'' Astrid insisted with a courteous smile, adjusting Angrboda on her hip, ''Thank you both but I think we'll be fine.''

''Well, if you change your mind...'' Aslaug smiled, before she quickly went after one of her mischievous sons. Astrid could not help but laugh.

''They're quite restless,'' she said with a grin.

''Yes,'' Ragnar frowned playfully, ''And yet for some reason I think they'll give me even more headache once they're grown.''

''Well, I should look for Floki. He should say goodbye to his daughter.''

''He's with Torstein,'' Ragnar pointed to the crowd, before he placed a kiss on Angrboda's forehead and ruffled her silky hair. She giggled, and Astrid smiled, as she did everytime she heard the sound. 

''Let's go find your daddy,'' she said to her cutely, walking towards the crowd.

''Astrid,'' Ragnar called.

''Yes?''

''Athelstan shall stay with you,'' he added.

''Is he not going?''

''Not this time.''

''Oh.''

Astrid wanted to argue that there was really no point in leaving anyone with her, that she'd be just fine, but she knew it would've been useless. And besides, she could really use company. If Athelstan was staying, then why not. Just as she started to say something to Ragnar, he waved her off towards the crowd with a smile. She smiled in return.  
She found Floki with Torstein, as Ragnar said, placing down the last of chests they were carrying.

''Your daughter wishes to see you, shipbuilder,'' Astrid smiled.

Floki beamed with happiness when he saw his child. He quickly leaped onto the dock and took her from Astrid's arms. He lifted her in the air and she laughed, before he hugged her tight to whisper something into her ear. Astrid could only make out a few things as she watched them with glee. ''You be good. Daddy will come back soon. Hopefully.''

''If you're so unsure if you'll come back, you should've gone to the Seer,'' she said.

''Sometimes it's better not to know.''

''Well, I would like you to come back,'' she smiled, ''And you too, Torstein.''

''We'll come back alright. And we'll bring you riches too,'' he grinned.

''Just bring me yourselves,'' she hugged him tightly, ''And preferably not on your shields.''

''Don't worry,'' he squeezed out, ''This will be a smaller raid too, no reason to worry.''

''Oh, I'm not worrying about you, I'm worrying about me,'' she grinned, ''I'd hunt you all the way to Valhalla if you dared leave me alone here.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my laptop broke down, and i have the next chapter typed out in there sooooo this fic has to wait a bit ;;


	6. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is a slow build, have patience~

Astrid would go up the hills with Angrboda every afternoon to look for the ships, and each day that passed she grew more worried. Athelstan would stay behind until she came back, and she was grateful for his presence. She would surely have been bored and lonely without him there.

''Why are they not back yet?'' Astrid asked in frustration, handing Athelstan his food.

''The time it takes varies,'' he shrugged, ''I don't know why you worry. They're not going anywhere they haven't been before.''

''Still, they cannot tame the ocean. And even if Thor doesn't strike them dead, they still could be outnumbered and beaten when they reach land.''

''Ragnar is not reckless. He thinks everything through. He wouldn't lead his men to such a highly probable death.''

''You sure do trust his judgement.''

''I have every reason to. I have seen him find his way out of the most impossible situations.''

''I have heard the stories,'' she shrugged off.

''And they still fall short.''

Astrid smiled, despite all. She knew how much Athelstan loved and respected Ragnar. She could not help but think about how blessed Ragnar was, with such a family and friends and ruling over the people who loved him and remained loyal to him. She wasn't sure if he ever really deserved it, but it is useless to try and understand the gods. If they favored him, then there must have been a reason.

''When they come back,'' she spoke after a while, ''I want to go, Athelstan. The next time.''

''To raid?'' he asked with his eyebrows raised, unsure if he was supposed to be surprised or not.

''I appreciate all this, you know. And I want to help Floki with Angrboda. I love this little girl,'' she smiled as she ruffled the child's hair in the passing, ''I want to pay off my debts to him. But... I cannot live like this forever.''

''What do you mean?''

''I mean that... I look at my sword and I remember that I used to fight. I used to know how, I- I don't know if it's a lingering memory or something that's been in me the whole time but I feel a need for adventure. To explore, to wander, to fight. I know this much. It's what I used to do.''

Athelstan smiled. ''Then talk to Ragnar when they return. He might allow you to come with them.''

''I want them to come back safe, but I also envy them. I cannot imagine being stuck here forever. But- I don't know.''

''You don't know what?''

''I don't know anymore. I don't know if I can still fight. Or if I was ever good enough to begin with.''

''Then let's see if you still remember,'' he smiled.

It was a struggle, at first - catching up with Athelstan. He may have been a Christian monk once but he was as skillful as an average Northman now. It took some time for her to recover what she thought lost, but with time she was getting better and better and after a few hours she seemed to be getting the hang of it. With Angrboda asleep, they trained for hours, and time seemed to fly by for Astrid absolutely refused to stop once it all started coming back to her. She had lost her footing a few times, and Athelstan had her below his blade, but soon she repaid it with twice as much. It was night when they were finished, soaking wet and breathless.

''Good-,'' Athelstan wheezed with his hands on his knees, ''That was- good-''

''Thank Othin-,'' she breathed out in the same position, ''I won't have to- die a housewife-''

Athelstan started laughing then, which Astrid did not deem a good idea, seeing how utterly out of breath he was. Alas, the laughter was contagious, and soon she found she could not stop herself from it either.

Until she saw it - something she thought she had been imagining for days.

''Athelstan,'' she spoke calmly and quietly, ''There is someone in the woods.''

''What do you mean?'' he asked, his eyes falling on where she was looking.

''Men. I've been seeing men for days,'' she said, with a trace of panic in her voice.

''Oh, I thought you knew,'' he exclaimed as though something had just dawned on him, ''There are always a couple of guards patrolling up there.''

''Why has no one told me anything?'' she asked.

''You know how Ragnar's been more careful ever since the incident,'' he explained, ''There are always two or three able men in the woods surrounding Floki's hut. It's their job not to come too close or be obvious.''

''Oh.''

''So you see, you'd never be entirely alone,'' he smiled.

''As much as I am grateful for this bit of safety, it's still not the same, priest,'' she grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders.

''Did I hit you too hard?'' he asked with worry as they made their way inside.

''Please, I am half Slavic half Norse. You really think you can hurt me badly?''

Athelstan's hand snaked around Astrid and lightly pressed a spot on her back.

''Ow!'' she blurted out, too startled to keep it in.

''I'm a bad Christian,'' he shook his head.

''Just as bad as any other,'' she giggled.

 

~

 

Astrid had never felt so much relief before - at least not that she remembered. The sight of the ships pulling into the Kattegat harbor was a gift from the gods. The sacrifices paid off.

She all but ran with Angrboda in her arms to meet the men at the dock. But she was still afraid - it was a mixture of fear and eagerness - and she was almost torn between looking for Floki and looking the other way. She had thought about the worst scenarios, and she felt shame for it for she was never the one to dread future - but she had thought about it, about what she would do with a child on her hands if Floki were to die? The thought was enough to make her shudder in terror, and make her as nervous as can be. She instantly spotted Ragnar, getting off of the very first ship, and Athelstan had made his way up to him instantly. She could see his family on the other side of the crowd, patiently waiting, Aslaug with a smile as beautiful as ever.

But she waited. With every second that passed her heart thumped harder and harder, until she finally saw him, and let out a gasp.

But she waited some more - after all she could wait a short while more - for the throng of people to make way, and for the crowd of people to dissipate. Then she whispered to Angrboda:

''Wanna go and give your da a hug?''

The child nodded eagerly and ran along the wooden dock into Floki's embrace. He lifted her and swung her around and laughed before he held her as close as Astrid had ever seen him hold her, and he kissed her forehead with as much affection as he could muster.

''I am glad you've come in one piece,'' Astrid said finally with a smile, approaching the man beaming with happiness.

''I have come back pounds and pounds of gold heavier,'' he giggled.

''I don't care for the gold, as long as I can give you your daughter back. Where's Torstein?''

She did not notice her friend approach her from the back and she was startled when she felt hands cover her eyes.

''Torstein! I know it's you.''

''How did she know?'' he raised his hands in the air.

''You smell of ale,'' she grinned.

''Aye, had to keep myself warm out on the sea,'' he grinned.

In the mean time, Angrboda and Floki had been playing and giggling not paying any attention to either Astrid or Torstein. It warmed her heart to see the two reunited and so happy, and Torstein's grin wasn't any less joyful either. 

''Have you lost many men, Torstein?''

''Barely a couple. We have been incredibly blessed this time.''

''Really? Good. That is good. I hope you haven't used up all your blessings.''

''The gods favor us, my friend!'' Torstein laughed and wrapped his arm around Astrid's shoulders, before they made their way into the town.

''May it stay so. Floki, are you coming?!''

''I'm right here, Astrid,'' he grumbled at her half-yell, walking right behind them.

''See, Torstein, one thing I haven't missed about Floki is the grumpiness.''

''I am not grumpy! I am a very cheerful person.''

Astrid chuckled. ''Angrboda, is your father as grumpy as a hungry cat?''

Angrboda giggled her childish laugh.

''I am hungry, now that you say it,'' Floki said.

''Are you coming home-?''

''Not tonight,'' he replied, ''But neither are you. There will be a feast tonight. Ragnar has an announcement to make.''

 

~

 

''My dear friends,'' Ragnar started and raised a cup, making the crowd in the Great Hall go completely silent, ''We return to you with great news. Our raid has been successful, and our losses minimal. Though it has been a minor raid, it is by far most successful that we've ever been.''

The crowd broke into cheers of celebration, and it all lasted until Ragnar spoke again.

''Seeing that our losses are minimal and that we have gained plenty, I am here to announce to you there will be another raid this summer. Spring is ending, and we hadn't stayed away long. We are not tired, but eager - and motivated by our success - to sail West again as soon as possible.''

''With all due respect, King Ragnar,'' one of the men from the crowd asked, ''Is there anything left to take over there anymore?'' The crowd broke into laughter, and Ragnar grinned widely.

''There are other lands to the West, my friend - lands perhaps far richer than either Wessex or Northumbria,'' his smile disappeared and he was back to his serious announcements, ''But for this we need all the men we can muster. We need a hundred ships. Which we have almost ready. I have already sent word, and already men from different parts of the land have come forth in agreement. Our numbers are already great. All able-bodied men are welcome. Earl Ingstad, whom you all love dearly, has come forth too,'' he finally smiled. 

Astrid was curious about how Aslaug would react to that, and she saw that the woman rolled her eyes playfully and smiled, and Astrid was sure she only feigned some sort of annoyance - she showed no contempt for Lagertha, only acceptance.

As Ragnar's speech went on, Astrid's eyes kept going from Ragnar, to Aslaug, to Floki. Ragnar held his ambition reined, his excitement concealed; Floki, who was sitting next to her, could barely contain his joy - he kept knuckling his short mustache and smiling like a child. Aslaug, on the other hand, kept going from smiles to frowns, support and concern mixed in all together.

''How are you so sure there are riches in these new lands?'' another voice from the crowd asked. It sounded like an older man.

''I am,'' Ragnar smiled again, this time kindly. He ruffled the hair of the youngest of his sons. The others were already old enough to wear their bracelets and carry swords. Well, Bjorn not counted.

''Then we will follow you, Ragnar Lothbrok, to either death or glory, either way we will follow!'' one of the voices exclaimed, and more cheers were heard, and Ragnar chuckled heartily and with affection.

''I am blessed to have you all with me. We will speak more of this, though the time will come soon. But now, we feast!''

And with a smile he sat back down next to his wife and his sons all around him.

''I'm coming,'' Astrid said as she took a bite of an apple. Floki, Torstein and Athelstan all shared the table with her. Angrboda was on Torstein's lap, munching on blueberries. There was purple color smudged on her fingers and cheeks.

Both Floki and Torstein seemed like they either bit their own tongues or choked on their food.

''You're coming?'' Torstein asked, as though in disbelief.

''You heard me right.''

''Can you even fight?'' he asked, but when he saw her face, he started again, ''I mean, I kn-''

''I have recovered my memory,'' she replied sharply.

''Yes, but you haven't fought-''

''She fought me. Had her blade against my neck just a few days ago,'' Athelstan jumped in.

''You're easy to kill, priest, you don't count,'' Torstein grinned and patted Athelstan's shoulder. Athelstan forced a smile in fake contempt. It was friendly banter.

''Then come,'' Floki spoke for the first time, looking up from his plate, ''But know that you are forbidden to die. I have not healed you for nothing.''

''I won't die. Floki, are you worried?'' Astrid teased.

''I only don't like my work ruined,'' he explained, ''You are not allowed to die now, just as my ships are not allowed to sink.''

''What about the gods, Floki? It is their decision,'' Torstein grinned.

''The gods love my work,'' Floki smiled, before he filled his mouth again.


	7. To New Lands

''I never thought I'd say this, but poor Rollo,'' Astrid said in almost a whisper.

''Why?'' Torstein followed her gaze. Siggy and Rollo were flirting across the Hall, sharing kisses from time to time.

''Don't you know he wants to make her his wife? I mean, it's none of my business but- It's a bit unfair.''

''You don't think she will marry him?'' Torstein asked, bewildered.

''Do you men not know anything? She will never marry him.''

''The Lothbrok brothers and their women...'' Torstein mused, shaking his head.

''You better watch out for Aslaug when saying that out loud,'' Astrid grinned.

''But they do love each other,'' Torstein nodded after a short silence.

''I dare say they do. A lot.''

''Why then?''

Astrid shrugged. ''They are both too ambitious. She probably wants a King. Rollo probably wants to be one. Do you see him ever being King?''

''No,'' he shook his head.

''They both want to marry well. They both want what they want.''

Torstein nodded, as though finally understanding. ''You women and your wits.''

She punched him playfully. ''I still don't trust Rollo though.''

''It took me a good while to trust him again. But he has redeemed himself. I do not think he is a bad man.''

''I never said he was. I just do not quite trust him,'' Astrid explained, ''And you, my dear friend, are a great man indeed. I do not think I could ever forgive something like that.''

''I try not to think about it,'' he said, ''Do not be mistaken; if I think about it, I get angry all over again. So I try not to think about it at all.''

''Either way, Torstein, you are one of the best men I've ever known,'' she kissed his cheek. He smiled much like a child as he watched her walk away.

~

Astrid was most excited to finally meet Lagertha, as was Þorunn to see her again. The two women had become fast friends - Astrid and Þorunn - practicing with each other in the yard from time to time. They'd spend hours on end next to the sea, with only the sounds of waves crashing, and steel clashing against steel and their own grunts and breathing. Salt in the air and salt on their skin - they'd been most persistent. And they were as good as any of the men. 

Astrid did admit to herself that it felt good having a true female friend for a change. It was getting a bit strange after a while, and she had felt a strong need for a woman to confide in and spend time with. Þorunn was a bit younger than her, but she had been through so much in her years Astrid thought she was one of the most interesting women she'd ever met. She was certainly a survivor.

When Earl Ingstad finally made it to Kattegat, everyone was most happy to greet her and all too pleased to see her. She was truly loved by the people of Kattegat, and Astrid could see why. She was infatuated with the woman from the first time she spoke to her.

There was an air of nobility about Lagertha - she looked more a Queen than Ragnar ever did a King - and she spoke to everyone with equal respect, be it a servant or a highborn. Ragnar spoke to her with utmost respect, and Astrid finally understood what Torstein and Athelstan meant when they said Ragnar and Lagertha still loved each other in a way. They had a son, but that wasn't all. As Floki said, Lagertha would forever be Ragnar's true best friend, and not him. He said nothing else on the matter; he was never the one to discuss other people much. He loved Lagertha and Ragnar almost equally - almost - Ragnar had always been something else to Floki. 

It almost seemed all too complicated to Astrid - the royal family matters - but it wasn't a bad kind of complicated, as she found; there was much love between everybody in the family, and there was certainly no longer any bad blood between Aslaug and Lagertha. It made Astrid respect all these people much more.

A feast was held the night before they were to depart, and Astrid found herself sitting across the table from Lagertha. She found herself talking to the woman for hours it seemed, and really she listened more than she talked, and she found there was a lot she could learn from the woman. It was hard not to give Earl Ingstad all the respect in the world - she was a good Earl, and a good mother, and a good leader, and a brave shield-maiden and by the end of the night Astrid was sure she had met the person she herself always aspired to become. 

''Did you not say you wanted to be like Lagertha?'' Aslaug smiled to Þorunn. 

''Yes,'' Þorunn smiled and nodded a bit shyly, ''And I think I've earned my place in the shield wall.''

Lagertha looked upon Þorunn kindly and smiled, and Astrid wasn't sure if it was because she felt complimented, or because she particularly liked the young woman her son Bjorn was in love with. What Astrid was sure of, however, was that she completely agreed with Þorunn's statement. One day, she hoped to be like Lagertha too.

Þorunn and Bjorn were almost a pest to deal with. Astrid couldn't keep up with Þorunn's stories sometimes. It was the most odd relationship she had ever encountered - when they weren't kissing each other's faces off, they looked ready to claw the skin off of each other. Bjorn had been particularly anxious now, with Þorunn going to the next raid and all. As far as Astrid was concerned, Þorunn deserved the name Ironside just as much as Bjorn did. The woman was very good. But Bjorn still worried.

Much like Torstein and Floki about Astrid, though they had a poor way of showing it. Torstein still worried about Athelstan too, it seemed; Athelstan had told Astrid about how Torstein always kept him in sight. As much as Athelstan was annoyed, Astrid found it endearing. 

Torstein made a few suggestions to her, just so very casually. ''Don't get separated'' and ''Stay very close'' were the most frequent ones, though he tried to say it as though he did not care much at all. Astrid would roll her eyes at him and smile. Floki was a different matter entirely.

''Don't get killed, mind you,'' he'd said, ''You owe me a debt yet.''

It was harder to say her goodbyes to Angrboda that morning than Astrid expected. Floki had left her with Aslaug's children, and Siggy would take excellent care of her, but Astrid had had no idea just how attached to the little girl she'd grown.

''Are you excited?'' Athelstan asked her as they carried things onto the boat.

''Very,'' she smiled, ''I feel- I dare say I feel alive again?''

''I know what you mean,'' he nodded, ''As odd as it is, one feels most alive when dancing with death.''

''You're going to Hel, priest,'' she laughed.

''Ehh, I've made peace with it,'' he shrugged with a grin.

This would be the biggest raid yet. There was no way all the ships could make it to the port, so getting on-board took a bit longer than usual. The entire North seemed to have provided men - Ragnar had made more allies for this raid than Astrid ever assumed.

''You've been to many raids, Ragnar,'' Floki knuckled his mustache, ''And have witnessed many betrayals. This is a large party indeed. Keep a watchful eye, friend.''

That was a friendly warning. Astrid could not imagine why anyone would betray the King in a project such as this one, but it had happened before, and probably would happen again. They stood on the dock and watched the ships getting boarded and switching places. The King's ship was to be boarded last.

Ragnar did not say anything to Floki's warning, he only gave a crooked smile before he wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders.

''Well, you certainly have enough men. Almost makes me want to sail with Earl Ingstad,'' Astrid smiled.

''Feel free, my friend,'' Ragnar motioned toward Lagertha's ship playfully, ''My ex-wife seems to have conquered every shield-maiden's heart.''

''Tell me about it,'' Bjorn said as he watched his beloved help with boarding one of Lagertha's ships.

''You're a lucky man, Bjorn,'' Astrid teased as she placed a hand on Bjorn's shoulder. He looked defeated, but he also looked like he wouldn't have had it any other way.

''Who do you sail with, my son?'' Ragnar asked. For some reason, there was no more playful banter, and some odd sort of tension had filled the air around them. Astrid felt as though she was intruding upon some private conversation. 

''My uncle,'' Bjorn replied. A wise answer, Astrid thought. Bjorn was a wise young man, and would be a wise King one day as well.

''Very well,'' Ragnar grinned, pulling his son into a hug, ''You sure have grown.''

Astrid was actually tempted to sail with Lagertha, but she thought she should stay with Ragnar. Floki, Torstein and Athelstan were all there with him. Þorunn, on the other hand, sailed with Rollo and Bjorn.

She waved to those who'd come to send them off, and she giggled at the way Angrboda wiggled in Siggy's arms saying her goodbyes. Astrid found it odd how that child almost never cried upon separation. It was as though the girl had grown completely used to it, and kept waiting with the certain knowledge that her father would return. Astrid hoped she wouldn't get disappointed one day.

Soon everyone had gone out of her sight, and she was surrounded by nothing but water and boats. Land still loomed about, but not for long. The weather was fair, but that wasn't certain for long either. She hoped the weather would remain as peaceful. They'd made their sacrifices to Thor. It would be alright. Finally, she sat next to Athelstan, placing her head on his shoulder. He was reading a book. There were no books anywhere in the North, and only Athelstan could read these amazing stories he'd taken with him the last time he'd been to the West.

''What are you reading?''

''Something I took from King Ecbert's library. I missed reading.''

''What is it about?''

''About a hero named Beowulf, from a time before ours.''

''Read it to me.''

And so he read, translating as best as he could, as they sailed peacefully across the seas. To new lands they went.


	8. Francia

Days all seemed the same out in the open sea. Sometimes it seemed to Astrid like it was just a single long day dragging on, and she was getting more anxious to see land with each moment that passed. There were a few ships close-by that she could see, one of them Rollo's. Everything else was enveloped in mist this day, and she was sure that if they really reached land they wouldn't be able to see it until they came too close. She looked nervously at Ragnar every time he checked for the Sun. With a sigh of relief she'd relax every time he found a sun-ray. It was far too cloudy to be relaxed. But it didn't look like it would rain really - it was just the sort of heavy, gloomy day with air so moist and dense she thought she could almost get water inside her and drown from it. But it wouldn't rain. Hopefully.

This was good. It was exciting, and having something like this to do really made Astrid feel less homesick. It had been months since the wreck, and it took all those months for the pain of the homesickness to lessen. She wasn't sure what home was anymore. Not that she'd grown attached to Kattegat too much. She just sort of felt like home was anywhere she eventually chose it to be. Home might not be a single place on this good earth after all.

She missed her brother and her father - her brother most of all - but when she looked at Torstein and Athelstan, she felt like she'd gained two more. Floki was, well, something different. She wasn't sure herself. She owed him almost everything at this point.

It was when almost everyone had gone to sleep - Astrid couldn't fall asleep as she'd slept during the day - that she saw it. Floki was stirring the boat, with Ragnar the only one awake and standing next to him, looking ahead. Neither announced anything, but she saw it, even at night. She saw land.

''There's land ahead,'' she stated the obvious, just quietly enough so as to not wake anyone. Floki nodded, and Ragnar smirked one of those crooked smiles of his. That smirk, and that twinkle in his blue eyes that he had whenever he planned something mischievous gave it away to her. Something was different.

''Stir east, Floki.''

''What- Where are we going?''

''Not to Wessex this time,'' Ragnar smiled.

''Where then?''

''Their across-the-sea neighbor.''

Floki's smile mirrored that of Ragnar's.

''What about the others?'' Astrid still couldn't see all the boats through the mist.

''I gave the orders. Everyone's almost in a line, following the ship ahead. There should be no problems.''

Ragnar gave her more information when dawn came and everybody started waking up. He'd found out about Francia from King Ecbert, quite unexpectedly, and Athelstan told him more, and he was very much looking forward to exploiting as many of its goods as he could. Astrid trusted Ragnar's experience, but she still hoped he knew what he was doing. He hadn't gone to a new land since the first time he came to Wessex, and it had been a while since then, as she knew. Though this time he was King with more than a large party following him, coming to new and unknown lands is always dangerous and never a task to be taken lightly.

''Are they Christians?'' Astrid asked her Christian friend the next day.

''Yes,'' he said with such a scowl that she thought Athelstan was already in the midst of a battle, one taking place within himself.

''How does that make you feel?''

''It's still difficult,'' he said, ''And hard to explain.''

She tilted her head and looked at him, tried to study him. He sighed and decided to tell more after all.

''I- I haven't known you for a long time and yet I feel I can tell you. You're different. You're- You're like Ragnar.''

''Like Ragnar?'' Astrid wondered if she ought to feel complimented or something.

''You don't-,'' he lowered his voice for only her to hear, and scooted closer to her, though no one was sitting too close to them, ''You understand, that is what I mean. Floki doesn't, for example. If I were to deny his gods in front of him, he'd probably cut my throat, friend or not.''

Astrid giggled and nodded, though it wasn't too funny. ''He probably would.''

''But Ragnar accepted my God, with time. See, I believe in my God, but I don't really deny his gods with certainty. Do you understand me?''

She nodded. ''I understand you perfectly.''

He frowned and smiled at the same time. ''How? No one could stand me because of it for a good long while.''

She shrugged. ''You don't deny my gods, and frankly I don't deny yours. Who's to say all of them don't exist? Maybe your God takes care of you, and our gods take care of us.''

Athelstan smiled a smile Astrid had only seen him give to Angrboda. 

''Do you find me ridiculous, priest?''

''No, I find you wonderful, Astrid,'' he grinned.

She smiled. ''Can I tell you a secret of my own, priest?''

''As long as you don't stick with that nickname like everyone else.''

She giggled. ''I won't, I promise.''

''Then I'm all ears.''

''You know I was raised in a home made by two very different people. My mother wasn't of the North. She grew up with different gods. Well, different beliefs, the gods were almost the same, with only different names for them.''

''Yes, I know that,'' he nodded.

''This is why I understand you so well. Sometimes I feel... torn between the two sides, torn between everything I've learned. So I try not to rely too much on the gods. My heart is in Freyja's hands only.''

''I understand,'' he frowned and nodded,

''I'm not so sure Floki would.''

It was a few more days out on the sea before land loomed into view again. Days grew brighter and sunnier. Ragnar cheered almost in victory when he saw land again - the land of his preference. He laughed with such joy as he unwrapped and spread out a drawing on the deck. It was like nothing Astrid had ever seen before.

''What is that?'' she asked.

''Francia,'' he only said, never taking his eyes off of the drawing, or his finger tracing every line and every curve. Astrid looked in bewilderment. She couldn't read any of the inscriptions - Athelstan only could, and Ragnar a bit of it - but she was sure she was seeing rivers and mountains and cities designated on the drawing. This was all the knowledge of the land they needed if only they knew where they were starting from. And Ragnar knew.

''We are here,'' he pinned his finger at the place where the ocean seemed to cut into land. He looked up and grinned for he was right, and Astrid could see the entrance too. 

''Pi- Pi-''

''Picardy,'' Athelstan helped his friend.

''The coast of Picardy,'' he confirmed, ''It is safest for us to make camp as close to the coast and the ships as possible. When we arrive and settle, we shall make further plans.''

And so it was. The coast was large enough and clear of any settlements that Astrid could see. There didn't seem to be a living soul near where they were, which was more than good. It took the entire day to get off board and make their encampments. A meeting was held in the evening - one meant only for Ragnar, Lagertha, and all the Jarls whose names Astrid didn't know, and of course Rollo, Bjorn, Floki and Athelstan, whom Ragnar had to have by his side. The leaders of the raid - it was up to them to decide the next step and the rest were to wait.

Þorunn was still amazed by the fact that she was on foreign land; she was still as excited as the moment she set foot there. It made Astrid excited for her, though she was tired, but not tired enough to go sleep before she could hear everything from Floki. So she resorted to braiding Þorunn's hair while they waited.

''I cannot believe I'm here,'' she said as she took a bit of her apple.

''Don't move,'' Astrid smiled, ''I'm trying to work here.''

''Sorry,'' she giggled, ''I don't think I will be able to sleep tonight.''

''You'll have to,'' Astrid replied, ''You will need your full strength. We have no idea when we might have to be on the move.''

''I know,'' she sighed. 

''Are you afraid?''

''Gods, no,'' she said, ''My entire life, I haven't lived, up until recently. I don't really have too much to lose, and I'd much rather go to Valhalla than slave away my life on this earth.''

Astrid nodded, she understood. ''Better to die in all the excitement, than live a hundred boring years.''

Þorunn nodded a bit too aggressively, almost letting loose all her hair from Astrid's hands, so Astrid pulled a bit and earned an ''ow!'' from her friend.

''I told you not to move so much!''

''Sorry!''

Then they started laughing.

''Bjorn will be very hurt if something happens to you, you know,'' Astrid said.

''I know,'' Þorunn replied as though she didn't quite care, but Astrid knew better. She cared a lot.

''I will be too,'' she added.

To that, Þorunn tried to turn around to face her, but with Astrid's hands in her hair she could only give another ''ow!'' and another series of giggles. Both of them laughed.

''Nothing will happen to me,'' Þorunn finally said, ''And nothing will happen to you either. It better not. We're not going to Valhalla just yet.''

''My family probably thinks I'm dead already, so my absence wouldn't really get noticed,'' Astrid shrugged.

This time Þorunn managed to turn around and face her friend, with all the pain pulling at her skull, but she didn't really care. She looked at Astrid incredulously, and she looked back surprised, with her hands still in the braids.

''Are you joking?'' Þorunn asked, though she sounded almost angry.

''N-No?''

''Do I not exist? Torstein and Athelstan? Floki? Angrboda?''

''I-''

''That child would be devastated! And everyone else has become fond of you, the King and Queen included! You really have no idea, do you, just-''

''Þorunn, Þorunn, alright, I get it,'' Astrid stopped her and gave her a smile, ''I have made some dear friends.''

Þorunn gave a twitch of her lips that seemed a fleeting smile. ''You don't really get it.''

''What do you mean?''

''You don't see the way Torstein looks at you at all,'' she said.

''I... still don't understand,'' Astrid scowled.

''He looks at you the way Bjorn looks at me, but you don't see it. Ever.''

Astrid scoffed. ''You're mad. Torstein looks at me the way he'd look at a sister.''

''You couldn't see the truth if Thor struck you with it.''

''You're just imagining things!''

''I do not thinks so. And if I didn't know that shipbuilder, I'd say he's the same, but you never know with him, he's a bit crazy.''

''Floki? Now you're really talking madness!''

''What about Floki?'' Torstein asked, appearing out of nowhere it seemed, before he lay in their tent and took a bite of an apple of his own. All Astrid could do was nudge Þorunn as a sign to keep silent. Her ideas were ridiculous.

''Nothing,'' Astrid blurted out, ''Þorunn said Floki could defeat Bjorn in battle, and I said it was madness.''

''Eh, you never know,'' Torstein shrugged, ''The boy may be Ironside but Floki is a sly opponent.''

And like that, they wiggled out of the sticky situation, and Astrid vowed to threaten to murder Þorunn later on if she ever brought up the silly subject again.

The leaders discussed for a long while in their tent separated from all the others. Without knowing it, Astrid had fallen asleep, for the next time she opened her eyes, Floki was settling next to her. Lying on his back with his hand below his head, he stared at the tent as though he could see the sky through it. 

''What is it? And why does Ragnar need all of you? You're not Jarls.''

''He needs the priest for the knowledge,'' he answered, ''He needs his son to learn and he needs me to counsel with. Rollo he's appointed one of the leaders.''

''I'd rather make you a leader,'' Astrid muttered sleepily, not opening her eyes. She didn't see Floki smile.

''I wouldn't want to be one.''

''And? What have you all decided?''

''Tomorrow we scout. There's a town nearby. Then we raid. If it goes well and we take rule of it, we move on to the other. Ragnar wants to make his way into the land.''

This made Astrid open her eyes and look at him again. She looked at him with a frown.

''Does he mean to settle here?''

''He means to make some of the lands his own for our people to farm. He will either take it by force or treat with the Frankish King.''

''But that's- That's dangerous,'' she said, ''Floki, it's too dangerous.''

''What's not dangerous?'' he shrugged.

''Have you not seen the size of these lands? We need to be able to return where we're safe,'' she insisted.

''Our numbers are great. We have many important people, and a King leading them. His influence is great. Do not doubt him.''

''I do not doubt his influence,'' she replied, ''I am only weary of the unknown. We do not know these lands, nor do we know these people.''

''And Ragnar is aware of it,'' he insisted, ''And he has a plan. We do not need to know every detail of it. We only need to follow.''

''Has everyone agreed to this?''

''Yes.''

''And no one opposed?''

''Lagertha requested that the moment things start not to look too good, they would retreat and leave these lands.''

''And what did Ragnar say?''

''He said he wouldn't retreat at the first sign of trouble, but agreed to retreat if things became too bad. Now sleep, Astrid, or let me sleep.''

In the morning Ragnar sent a scout west - along the coast - to see the size of the town and what would be waiting for everyone there. He returned with good news on the 3rd day. It was nothing but a few scarce villages along the way, and the small town of Dieppe would be as easy to raid as Lindisfarne was. It was mostly fishermen and farmers, with scarcely an able-bodied man to fight. And so when they went on, they left behind only a party large enough to defend their boats and their camp.

They reached Dieppe in two days of pressing on and almost no rest. They camped in the woods south-east of it, which was the only way to hide such a large party, and they kept as silent as they could, and lit no fires. It was Ragnar's orders to raid in the evening when everyone's settled in their homes after a hard labor's day, as he'd said. 

And so they waited for the Sun to set, and for the conquest to finally begin.


	9. Confusion

It all happened quite fast. The people of Dieppe saw nothing coming and had almost no defense whatsoever, so Ragnar could easily establish rule over the settlement without really having to shed much Frankish blood. Those people had no choice, really - they were terrified but they were alive at least. The conquest was executed in less than two hours.

It wasn't bloody business, but that was a good thing. Mostly, when Astrid opened a door, the people on the other side of it would shiver, and some men would hold knives or anything they could grab to use as a weapon, but almost none made a move. Astrid would grab valuables with caution and walk away with the bag across her shoulder. 

She had to kill a few in self-defense, and it wasn't pleasant but it wasn't unfamiliar either. One kill was a close call too; it had her heart racing like mad. This man had all but thrown himself at her from behind the door, even had his knife to her neck. She was quick and skilled enough to reverse the situation, but that was one careless mistake she wouldn't make again - from that point on she would kick the door in completely.

The looks of fear on the faces of the children were worse than the few necessary kills. She wouldn't ever a hurt a child, but they didn't know that. They feared her as one fears the wrath of Othin himself. That didn't exactly sit well with her. There was a feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't shake off so quickly. 

It was when the excitement of the moment wore off that she could really think about how she felt. Still, she left most of it for later. Even though this was an easy enough task, it didn't mean one of her friends couldn't die due to accident or carelessness. She'd have to check on everyone first.

When it came to riches, they didn't gather much, but that didn't matter now. This was bigger than one fishermen's town. Whatever they did gather could fit in barely a few small chests, which they piled up at the town center, where Ragnar, Björn, Lagertha and some of Ragnar's men waited, gold and silver at Ragnar's feet. He looked satisfied, it seemed to Astrid when she came with her own plunder. Björn seemed impatient, unable to stand still, until he tore off somewhere, to his father's apparent disapproval. The young man didn't care, and Astrid knew why he had gone off. Lagertha only had a look of sympathy. A few Jarls waited a bit farther off. 

"All will be over in a few minutes," Ragnar said to no one in particular as though reading Astrid's mind, and almost before she could even really decently answer, more people were back, Björn and Thorunn among them, she looking less than happy and all but throwing her bag and walking off, and he following her with a frown.

"Astrid, find Athelstan, then Rollo and Floki. Tell them to gather the citizens in one place. I would have a word," Ragnar ordered around, "You too, lad. Amd you."

Astrid stumbled upon Rollo first, and it didn't take her long. He seemed to be just about to seal the door of the town chapel with the people he'd thrown in there. She couldn't determine how many horrified families there were. A few, perhaps. But there was one man lying dead in a pool of his own blood before them.

"Rollo," Astrid called, "What is happening here?"

"Lost your memory again? This is a raid, my friend," he grinned, pulling the door closed.

"Found anything in there?" she nodded toward the small building.

"Trinkets. Barely."

"Then there is no need to terrify them," she all but growled - surprising her own self really - before she forcibly drew open the door.

The people gasped and shrunk back at the sight of her. Slowly, she placed her sword on the floor. Unable to speak their language, this seemed to be the only way for her to show them she had no intentions on hurting them. Not unless they made her. Then she motioned for them to come, to follow, and after a long moment they started to understand, and reluctantly, with a whimper somewhere in the feeble crowd, they started moving, one after the other. Rollo watched with a frown, a tad bewildered.

"The king has asked for a crowd," Astrid explained, reading his expression, "He means to speak to the citizens. Find Athelstan."

That sounded an awful lot like an order. An order to the king's brother. Probably not entirely appropriate, but Astrid didn't care. She most definitely couldn't bring herself to care for Rollo anyway. 

When Athelstan came, it was easier to herd them all in the square. The priest spoke this odd language too. He was all but the most valuable weapon the King ever had.

"Let it be known that Ragnar, King of the Danes, now holds rule over this city," Ragnar's voice boomed across the crowd, and Athelstan's followed with translation, "You may go on living peacefully; no harm will come to you unless you cause it yourselves. Go on as you have, and obey, and there will be nothing to fear."

As Athelstan's voice brought understanding to the minds of the people, Astrid could see their expressions change: some were hopeful, some grateful, some distrustful, and some still as terrified as ever. The elders clutched their scared and confused children to their sides. They all stirred and muttered, but none dared say a word. 

"You may return to your homes now," Lagertha dismissed them, with a tone of kindness in her voice. The people didn't react immediately. Slowly, as though letting it sink in, and reluctantly, as though afraid this was a trick and if they moved they'd be dead - the crowd dispersed, escorted by viking soldiers. Soon the night was quiet again, and the streets emptied except for the Northmen. Guards found their posts among buildings, assigned to watch over the town for the few days to come. Not that any of these people had the courage to plot anything.

The vikings dispersed too.

They set camp right in the city. The night was warm, unlike any summer night in the north. Astrid realized she hadn't seen Floki all day, which made her jumpy only for a moment - she could find him next to Ragnar in front of a small fire used to roast some meat impossible to discern from the distance. Probably a bird of a sort. Astrid approached, and as she did, the smells coming from the fire reminded her that she too could use some meat down her belly. 

"I haven't seen you," Floki said when he saw her.

"I was about to tell you the same."

"Got your head cracked open already? Sit here."

"What?" Astrid touched her head. There were a few drops of blood on her fingers. She chuckled. "Don't worry, your work isn't ruined. It's just a small cut, I got punched."

If he acknowledged that answer, he didn't show it. He had a clean cloth and water now, pulled out of the tent. He expected her to sit, and all she could do was obey. Ragnar snickered at the two, biting on a leg. Only Athelstan was in his company here, but he didn't seem to have much of an appetite. Astrid made sure to remember to talk to him later. Her friend seemed deeply troubled.

A cold touch woke her from those thoughts. Floki was dabbing at her cut and bruises with as much focus as he always put into shipbuilding, it seemed. Torstein joined the fire just before Floki's finishing touches. After the noise and crowds and all the official business, this was always the scene - Ragnar surrounded by no one but closest friends. Astrid just happened to be there, in her search for Floki.

"You alright, elska?" Torstein asked when he saw what Floki was doing.

"She'll live," Athelstan smiled at her.

"How did you come out of there without a bruise?" Astrid demanded.

"I've told you I'm not a priest anymore," he smirked.

"You really do think you're still a better warrior than me," Astrid huffed playfully. 

"I don't think; I know," he grinned in response.

"Oh I'll show you yet-"

"Priest, you're making her move a lot," Floki grumbled, now apparently applying some sort of balm. The cut could've been deeper than Astrid thought, but she didn't feel it in any case.

"Now what do we do?" Torstein asked after a while, question directed at Ragnar, "What duty would you have us do?"

"I would have you sleep," the king replied, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "There's room enough in the chapel for those closest to me. I do not mean to seize these people's houses if I can help it. Unless it storms, we use the buildings that are not houses only."

"Then what?" Astrid asked, not thinking at all. It dawned on her a moment too late that this was none of her business right now, and though seemingly a friend, Ragnar was still the king. Her king, now. And she was just a number in the ranks.

Ragnar paused a moment - Floki was long finished by now - before he answered. 

"We plan our next strike. But we mustn't plunge into things without full strength. We rest a bit and then move on. Soon, word will come to their king. He'll want to speak to us. Then we negotiate."

Astrid was smarter this time. 

"I apologize for my curiosity, but... What would you negotiate exactly?"

Ragnar smiled that crooked smile of his. "What wise king would choose to fight an army that's this big and that's seizing one town after the other long before he even fully realizes it? By the time we strike at Paris, he'll have no choice but to grant us all we wish. And that is land. And to take back the riches we've plundered."

"And that is that."

"And that is that," Ragnar confirmed with a nod.

"Huh."

"Get to sleep, everyone. And that is an order," he finally said, walking away toward the chapel ahead.

~

Floki always smelled like lumber. Astrid found it curious, how that smell never left him, not even after days and days of travel or a long day of battle. That smell seemed to have become a part of him, or perhaps she had just become so used to it that she could sense it always. Over the time she'd spent living with him, she'd grown so used to it that it became one of her favorite things, about him and in general - it made her feel at home, and it seemed to bring her some sort of joy, for that reason perhaps, or for some other. She felt joy now too, knowing he was lying close to her, fresh and breathing. She couldn't really understand it, nor did she try. She just liked that he was there, and hoped he would remain there, close by. 

She planned to remain trying to fall asleep and not acknowledge him, but then he let go of a quite heavy sigh. She couldn't help turning around to the other side to face him.

"You're not sleeping in the chapel?"

"I like fresh air better," he replied, hand under his head, staring at the roof of their tent.

"That or you just crave my company," Astrid teased with a grin. Floki seemed tired. His mouth only twitched in what would have been a smile.

"Something's bothering you," she added.

"Nothing new, Astrid."

"Talking makes things easier, you know."

"I'm no puny Christian wailing about his troubles, Astrid. You save that for Athelstan. You do a lot of talking either way."

"I know you better than you think now, Floki. If you think your being rude will distract me from the matter at hand, you're wrong."

Floki sighed again before he turned the other way, granting her a view of his back.

"I'm tired. Stop annoying me and go to sleep."

"You were the one who awoke me."

"And now I'm letting you sleep," he grumbled.

She turned back around, their backs now facing each other. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but with every conscious attempt, more ill thoughts plagued her. Feelings flooded her - all of a sudden she started missing her family again and feeling alone and then she thought of that close call out there and how she had to kill a few people that were no soldiers without meaning to and before she really knew it, she felt like crying. She fought back that impulse, of course - but a sniff escaped her nevertheless. 

"Are you crying?"

"No."

"You are crying."

"I'm not crying, Floki."

"You're not well in the head."

"You're the one to speak."

"Yes, and that's saying something."

There was a short moment of silence, before they both broke into laughter, as quiet as they managed it. Stray tears escaped Astrid's eyes, before she lay on her back and they both calmed into silence again.

"I don't know what I'm feeling anymore," she sighed, "I'm lost. That is what I am. I am just wobbling my way through this life trying to find some purpose of it all."

She didn't expect Floki to say something to that, listening was enough. He was never the type to comfort, Astrid didn't think he knew how. He was too broken himself to try to put someone else back together. But this time, now lying on his back again as well, he responded.

"You have found a home. You will find a purpose."

"Have you?"

"Angrboda is all the purpose I need."

"Is that what's bothering you? You miss her?"

"I always miss her."

"Then what is it?"

"Sometimes... I hear her crying at night. And not being there to hold her, it kills me."

"She almost never cries, Floki," Astrid smiled at the thought, "That is one cheerful child."

"I know."

"There is no need to worry about her," Astrid reassured him, now again lying on her side and facing him.

"I thought the same about Helga."

That pierced Astrid's heart like an arrow. Now she understood. She could only imagine the pain eating up Floki on the inside. He never healed. And it was frightening to think that perhaps he never would.

"On certain nights, I miss her so much it pains me to breathe."

This was a side of Floki he revealed to no one. No one. Not even to Ragnar, which is why he was so worried about Floki most of the time. Astrid would have felt touched and privileged probably, but instead she felt a longing, to help him - a want, to heal him. When he turned to face her right back, her heart broke. Pain replaced the crazy fire in his eyes; the darting thoughts and ideas in his mind were substituted by memories that seemed to slowly drag on as though into eternity. His spirit was subdued like this sometimes, on lonely nights, and there was nothing Astrid wanted more than to fix that.

"I am alone again," he said with pain straining his voice. No one else would have noticed that tone - Floki could hide his feelings too well - but Astrid did. Living under his roof provided that understanding, even though he still tried not to let her know, but she would see him and his pain sometimes, when he thought she wasn't looking.

"You are not alone, Floki," she cupped his tired face - the paint on his cheeks was almost erased now, "You will always have me. It's not much, I guess," she chuckled, "But it's what you get, shipbuilder."

"It's not the same," he argued, sounding almost kind, as though not wanting her to take it the wrong way. This was definitely a side of Floki he rarely showed. On nights like this he was just too tired to care about any façade.

"I know."

"And I am not stupid, Astrid, I know you will leave too. And you should."

"I'm not leaving any time soon, that's for sure. There is no way I am leaving Angrboda," she grinned.

"You will leave sooner than you think," he said, "There is something very wrong with me. One day, you will have enough of it."

"There is something wrong with me, too," she mused, as though to herself, "Very wrong. One day you might have enough of it."

He chuckled, that craziness of his buzzing through his voice again.

"Some people are meant to be alone," he said.

"Maybe. But why not defy the gods from time to time? I'd rather not be alone if I can help it. And you, Floki... you make me feel a lot less alone."

She seemed to have succeeded at comforting him this time - the pain in his eyes seemed to have drawn back a bit. What she saw now was something she could only usually catch in fleeting moments - gratitude and kindness. Maybe even some sort of affection. Astrid had no idea what had taken over her. She did it so instinctively, she was barely aware of it - she placed her lips on his and kissed him.

She became aware of it when she realized he was kissing her right back.


	10. Going Back

As days passed, the Northmen made their way further into Francia. It was easier than Astrid had anticipated, and the losses minimal - the numbers of the vikings were simply overwhelming for the unprepared kingdom of Francia. By the time they were ready to sail further down the river and into the city of Paris, the Frankish king had already been all too informed about the raids and conquering, and factions of Frankish army had already been sent against the too powerful enemies of the North. Nothing seemed to be able to deter them, and Astrid thought now was the time for the Frankish king to beg for a treaty. An agreement of any sort. She was sure Ragnar was surprised the Franks were fighting back for even this long.

Of the night in that tent in Dieppe, Astrid and Floki spoke nothing. It happened, and that was that. Nothing changed between them at all. Astrid was confused about the whole thing, and was not quite sure what she wanted that night to be, and decided they all now had more pressing matters. In the midst of everything happening, it was hard to think about anything else. Things were getting more dangerous now. They had a firm hold on a small faction of the kingdom, and were confidently getting ready for the siege of Paris; but surely Paris wouldn't be as easy a feat as the fishermen towns and merchant cities and farms and churches of the monks. Being confident was good, but being overly confident was dangerous. It had been too easy so far. They had to get their minds clear and straight now.

Which were Ragnar's words exactly that night at the camp they set up on the coast. Ragnar was confident and eager to get past those city walls, but was warning everyone against recklessness.

''They stand no chance,'' he told his close circle of people now sitting around the small fire, ''Everything those people have will soon be ours. But that doesn't mean we just stroll in recklessly. I don't want foolish risks, despite our numbers. I better not hear about anyone disobeying the plan.''

''And what _is_ the plan, father?'' Bjorn asked, ''I think now would finally be the time for us to know.''

That was true enough. The city was basically an island, bordered by walls as high as they could get. Everyone had been wondering.

''You will know,'' Ragnar only said.

''Once the priest figures it out,'' Floki said spitefully, ''He makes the plan. Our fates are in the hands of a Christian!'' he mocked, throwing his hands up. Ragnar rolled his eyes, but Athelstan said nothing. Floki was sometimes simply tiresome to Athelstan. There was just no point in arguing.

''Either way, you will know,'' Ragnar said, ''When every detail is ready. Those walls-,'' he pointed to what barely loomed in the far distance and the dark of night, ''Those walls demand every detail carefully planned out.''

''I agree,'' Lagertha said, ''But you say we outnumber them by far. How do you know this?''

''King Charles' forces are already weakened,'' Athelstan explained, ''And I am acquinted with their defenses. They do not have enough fighting people to even oppose us.''

''Then why are we all here?'' Lagertha asked, ''We are not all needed. Do you mean to seize the city as your own, Ragnar? Do you mean to make yourself king of Francia?'' Her tone sounded almost taunting. Almost.

''I had no such plans,'' Ragnar smirked, ''But you make valid suggestions.''

''Brother,-'' Rollo started.

''No, I have no intentions of being king of Francia,'' he replied immediately, annoyance in his face and voice, ''But I do want land. And I do plan on taking every bit of the riches they have piled up beyond those walls. If you want to leave,'' he playfully, provokingly taunted Lagertha, tilting his head, ''Then leave.''

''I do want Paris,'' Lagertha argued, ''But we have taken all of our forces with us, we have left our own lands unprotected for this. We came under the assumption that all of us would be needed. We're clearly not, Ragnar. We left our homes vulnerable to anyone without necessity.''

''Who would dare attack my lands?'' Ragnar asked.

''It would not be the first time,'' Lagertha retorted.

''My lands are protected,'' Ragnar growled, almost angry now, ''I did not leave them without protection.''

''Is it enough protection? You have an enemy at home, Ragnar, and you don't even know who it is.''

''Shut up!'' he growled, almost shouted. Half of his mead spilled from his mug and sprinkled onto the fire. His eyes twitched with something not even Lagertha could discern, probably a mixture of fear and guilt and anger and grief all in one and shoved deep down his heart. With another twitch of his jaw, he threw the mug away angrily and stalked over to his tent.

Athelstan sighed. He'd give Ragnar some time to cool off before going to him. He knew he was the only one who could actually soothe him, or handle his fits of anger. Lagertha was right, and that's what hit Ragnar worst. He knew she was, and he was now second-guessing himself. Was it enough protection? Should he have left more men behind? Was he blinded by his ambitions, left his people in peril's way? His children? He couldn't bear it. He couldn't afford to second-guess it. He couldn't afford doubt.

''You were always a wise woman, Lagertha,'' Floki said in admittance. He too had wanted Paris too much. He suddenly thought of Angrboda.

''Queen Aslaug has proved to be capable of filling in Ragnar's place,'' Athelstan argued, ''She would know what to do.''

''I don't doubt Aslaug,'' Lagertha said, ''On the contrary. But it won't be up to her if she's forced to face a great strength of arms. I'm talking about people, Athelstan. Have we left enough able people behind?''

''It should be fine,'' Bjorn said, ''We cannot keep living in fear, mother.''

''No, we cannot, but we should live protected. And smart. Because that matter was never settled.''

''Hedeby?'' Rollo asked.

''I've entrusted it to someone trustworthy. I don't worry. But I fear it's still not enough men.''

''Then what do you suggest we do?'' Bjorn asked.

''Send a group or two back. Surely we can afford to send a ship or two back,'' Lagertha replied.

''It would not make much difference to us,'' Floki admitted and shrugged, before taunting again, ''But _I_ wouldn't know - ask the priest.''

Athelstan rolled his eyes, before he nodded. ''Yes, I believe a ship or two less wouldn't make much difference to us here at all.''

''One of us should go back with the group,'' Lagertha further explained.

''Don't look at me, mother,'' Bjorn replied, ''I wouldn't miss Paris for anything.''

''Me neither,'' Rollo shook his head and shrugged, but seemed a bit apologetic. Floki shrugged too. Lagertha expected that. She wouldn't leave either, and that left only Athelstan, whom she also expected would refuse.

''I cannot leave Ragnar. I wouldn't,'' he said.

''It doesn't matter,'' Lagertha said, before standing up, ''I know exactly whom I'll ask.''

*

''When do you think we'll attack Paris?'' Thorunn asked, lazily braiding and un-braiding her hair as she and Astrid lay in their tent, Torstein sitting against a tree trunk across from them, dozing off into a nap.

''Are these people stupid, Thorunn?'' Astrid asked, turning on her side, ''Why haven't they tried to treat with us? To surrender? Ragnar will sack Paris and they won't stand a chance. What kind of christian king...?''

Thorunn shrugged. ''They're either stupid or just really brave. You know, for christians.''

Astrid frowned. ''Maybe they'll just hand out their riches like those monks in the last city.''

''That's no fun though,'' Thorunn smirked.

''It's even less fun fighting weaklings and cowards,'' Astrid grinned.

''Yes, you may be right,'' nodded Thorun, fiddling with her hair some more.

''There you are. I've been looking for you.''

Lagertha's voice snatched both of the girls' attention. They looked up, and soon enough Lagertha was standing at the opening, a hint of a smile on the earl's face. Before the girls could stand up, Lagertha was already seating herself down. The fire was flickering away, but nights had gotten warmer with the month of Einmánuður started, so the need for fires was lesser, even more so here in Francia. Francia was nothing like the North.

''Earl Ingstad.''

''You should have sent someone to fetch us,'' Astrid said.

''I felt like walking,'' Lagertha smiled.

''How can we help?'' Thorunn asked uncertainly, not sure if Lagertha needed them for something - somehow the prospect of her possible future mother-in-law just wanting to come and talk seemed a bit unlikely.

''I am sending some people back home - to Kattegat mostly, but a few to Hedeby as well. I need someone able and trustworthy to lead them back.''

That took a moment to sink in. 

''Us?'' Astrid stuttered.

''Unless you wish to stay for Paris.''

Astrid wanted to _see_ Paris more than anything. It wasn't about the riches for her, or the hardly exciting fighting that may or may very well not ensue. It was about knowledge. It was about the grandeur described to her by Athelstan. She wanted to see, to feel, to experience, to learn. Something different. Something more than the icy north. She'd always loved to travel, but she'd never gone this far.

For Thorunn it was much the same, except that it was about the actual attack too. As a new shield-maiden, she couldn't get enough of fighting. She couldn't get enough of testing her skills and she couldn't stop wanting to prove herself. She'd desired Paris since the idea had been brought up.

But they both respected Lagertha, and both felt themselves trapped in an uncomfortable position of impossibility to decline her offer. For Astrid it would be easier, and she knew that. Thorunn had really really really really wanted this. Much more than her.

''If you don't mind me asking,'' Thorunn carefully started, ''Why?''

''They are greatly outnumbered by us. Not all of us are needed here. The city is as good as sacked. And our lands have been emptied out for this. We haven't left them like this since... it all happened.''

Both Thorunn and Astrid knew what she meant, except that Astrid wasn't there to experience it, and Thorunn had gone through it herself - Bjorn and all.

''I understand,'' Thorunn finally said.

''I plan to send them away as soon as possible,'' added Lagertha, ''If you wish to stay, that is alright. But I do think you able and most fit for the task.''

''I will go,'' Astrid said with a smile, feeling only a slight pang of regret over Paris in her heart, ''Maybe Athelstan will bring me drawings of Paris. I do miss Angrboda.''

Thorunn looked at her with only a discreet hint of disbelief. She wanted Paris. Astrid knew it so well she almost felt like laughing over the situation. Thorunn would rather jump out of her skin than decline either Paris or Lagertha.

But she had to pick one.

''I am willing to help any way I can,'' she finally said.

''Good,'' Lagertha smiled and stood up, ''Now I would get some rest if I were you. You leave at dawn.''

When Lagertha walked away, Astrid and Throunn just shared a few odd looks. There wasn't much to say about it anyway. Torstein was snoring. It was time to sleep and deal with it in the morning. And so they did just that.

They woke up when first light hit. It was a promise of a beautiful new day. What they didn't know the night before is that the rest of the warriors were now preparing for an attack for the upcoming night. An attack Astrid and Thorunn wouldn't be there for. Now that they saw it happening, they felt the real pang of it. But they'd decided, and they would have decided the same over and over again if they'd had the chance. Astrid knew that too.

When they sought out Lagertha, they were led to the rest of the people that would travel back, a decent group fit to fill two large enough ships. There were two good navigators among them, one for each ship. The ships were already boarded with supplies and everything else. They were given final instructions and thank yous from Lagertha and were soon ready to leave. 

There were almost thirty men in Astrid's snekkja ship. She knew the names of some, but some she had only seen in passing. The navigator's name was Ebbe. She figured she had to remember it well since they would be spending all of their time together now on their way back home. For a moment she wished for Torstein or anyone she knew well and considered a friend. She didn't actually expect Torstein to board the ship.

But he did. He said something about Astrid not actually thinking he'd let her go back alone with a bunch of people she didn't really know, and then she hugged him just like a child.

The plan was to keep close at all times until they reached Kattegat, and then one of the girls would proceed on to Hedeby on horse with a couple of men - to check, if nothing else.

There was no time for goodbyes. At least not for Astrid - Thorunn had her moment with Bjorn. Astrid couldn't find either Floki or Athelstan. But she wished them all good luck through Lagertha and the earl hugged her once before they set out.

''Well, it was fun while it lasted,'' Astrid said, looking somewhere to the still rising sun, leaving the sound of people talking behind on the shore.

''Why should the fun be over?'' Torstein smiled, handing her some ale. Astrid felt some sort of sadness and apprehension she couldn't either explain or understand, so she forced a smile and accepted her friend's kind offer of a cheer up.

It would all be alright, she thought. It would have to be.


	11. Roots

''How much farther, Ebbe?''

''How about I tell you again in a few hours?''

Astrid groaned more than sighed. She had been so restless and anxious, and they were so close to entering the seas now she just could barely wait for it. There was something about the awfully silent forested coasts that made her more nervous than she ever knew she could get. She could see Thorunn easily on the other ship tailing them. She gave Astrid a nod that could have meant reassurance. Astrid stepped up to the standpost and strained herself to see farther than she humanely could, yet again. It was Torstein's hand she felt on her shoulder after a while, and as sure as she was that it was meant to comfort her, it only made her even more jumpy.

''Relax, elska,'' Torstein chuckled when he saw the look on her face, ''You will drive yourself crazy. I don't know what's making you so nervous anyway.''

''I do not know either, Torstein, and that's what makes me even more nervous,'' she looked back ahead.

''I wonder what's happening in Paris. I bet they're finished.''

''You should've stayed.''

''And leave you to go mad and fling yourself over the hull? I don't think so.''

Astrid smiled. ''I'm fine. But thank you, Torstein.''

''You should probably sleep some.''

''I'm not tired.''

''Odin knows you should be,'' he grumbled.

''I just have this... bad feeling, Torstein,'' Astrid explained, ''Another hour and I promise I'll go take a nap.''

''Suit yourself,'' he said, and went to take someone's place in rowing for a short while.

Astrid sighed and all but hugged the serpentine figurehead as she stood on the standpost. Something felt off. All seemed alright, but she knew what she felt, and maybe she was going crazy but she couldn't ignore it. The feeling was so consuming she couldn't even think about how those left for Paris were doing, and what would happen next for them.

Everything would be alright, she had told herself and wanted to believe it. She didn't want her feeling to be right. She didn't want it to be proved right in less than an hour.

Astrid had almost relaxed, chin against the wood. She could feel herself relaxing enough to finally feel the tiredness and the need to doze off. The sun was shimmering against the water. Everything was silent, even the vikings barely grunted and shared a few words among themselves as they rowed. Ebbe was focused on the waters ahead. Torstein was killing boredom by fletching some arrows. The situation in Thorunn's ship was much the same. 

It was Astrid who saw it first.

''Fuck.. me-,'' she barely breathed before she shouted, ''Shield Wall!!!!''

It was almost too late. Everyone was so relaxed and consumed by what they were doing, they couldn't react immediately. Torstein was the quickest to see what she was seeing, and so he shouted another ''Shield Wall!!!!'' in his deep, booming voice and now everyone was reaching for a shield and making formation as the arrows started flying in.

That damn forest could have concealed frost giants.

She could hear arrows hitting wood, and occasional grunts that indicated wounds. She dared not move, with Torstein towering over her and concealing both their heads. They could fire back, but that was all they could do. Her mind was racing when she heard another couple of grunts. They couldn't afford to lose men.

''Hold!'' Torstein shouted, and they held formation still, for another shower of arrows. This time Astrid smelled burning wood. She suddenly realized.

''Archers!'' she shouted, and the people fumbled for the bows on their back - only some of them had them ready, ''We need to fire back or they'll sink us down!''

''Shield Wall to the west side!'' Torstein added, ''They can't reach us from the east anymore! Protect the archers!''

They acted fast, and in a moment's time they were firing back - and they could see the full number of enemy archers now that they were no longer hiding and skulking in the shadows like cowards. A faction of their arrows were still sending fire onto the ship, but a couple of shield-maidens were extinguishing it all immediately. Astrid tried to shoot to kill, but it wasn't easy with the wind and the ship still moving slowly and the sun burning her eyes.

They killed enough and evaded enough to make the enemy soon realize they were failing. What was left of them had dispersed once the ships outsailed them. But it all happened so fast Astrid could barely catch her breath. When it was over it almost seemed like those odd short dreams you have when you unintentionally doze off.

They sailed even further and quicker before they could stop and assess their current situation. They had to stay ready and alert for that may had very well not been the only attack they'd experience until they reached the open ocean.

''Is everyone alright?'' Astrid finally asked when they slowed down. Thorunn's ship wasn't far behind them, and she could see commotion there too.

''Fine,'' Dagny, one of the shield-maidens, said as she helped a man bleeding from his calf, ''A few wounded legs and arms is all.''

''And a few dead,'' Torstein said as he rearranged the bodies of four men at the back of the ship, ''Four good men too.''

Astrid's heart sunk down. ''We will give them a proper burial once we reach Kattegat.''

When Torstein and Astrid passed onto Thorunn's ship to check on their situation, they found that it was much the same - they had a couple of dead as well, and a few wounded. Thorunn and Erik, the warband leader, were eating themselves up over it, feeling it their responsibility. Jorleif, their navigator, as well; though he had an arrow wound in his side himself.

They remained alert, but nothing further happened, and they ended up setting out onto the open ocean safely. Ebbe was optimistic and happy about the weather and the wind and the tides and all of that. It occurred to Astrid that things may not exactly have gone perfectly smoothly back in Paris after all. That may have been a possibility. She dared not believe it with her friend Torstein who had been the source of good energy and joy now as gloomy as the dark winter clouds over Kattegat. He was frustrated over the loss of men. Astrid assumed he knew one of them well. They had another dead on their hands too - a woman had died from her wound after it was obvious there was nothing else that could have been done to help her. It was depressing for everyone.

''Well, the worst is behind us,'' Astrid sat next to Torstein, hoping to cheer him up.

''That feeling you had... are you a Seeress in disguise?'' he tried to joke, but his smile was somewhat sad.

''Maybe,'' she smiled back playfully.

''That was no way to die,'' he shook his head, looking at the dead bodies lying at the back.

''I'm sure they're in Valhalla,'' Astrid said.

''There's no telling how many days we might stay on ship. The bodies will start to rot, to stink. As much as they'll try to endure, the men will eventually complain. We'll have to get rid of them.''

''Until that happens,'' she placed a hand on his shoulder, ''Ebbe says the weather and the waters are perfect. We might be back home sooner than we think.''

''If Odin allows it.''

''He will.''

''I wonder what's the situation in Paris,'' Torstein said.

''Me too,'' Astrid smiled, ''I can't wait to see what they bring back.''

*

Torstein proved to be right - after some days they had to get rid of the bodies. It was no way to send them away, but it was the only way now. Luckily and comfortingly, one of the shield-maidens knew some old burial prayers, and so they were spoken as the bodies of their fallen comrades met with the deep blue. They all silently begged Odin to receive them at Valhalla.

Everything seemed in decent order when they finally reached Kattegat - no sign of any trouble. The people grew instantly worried once they saw only two ships return, but the explanation came swiftly - they assured everyone things were just fine back in Francia. Queen Aslaug had welcomed them herself, her boys all around her, and Siggy at her side with Angrboda in her arms. That was the first thing Astrid did - take Angrboda and squeeze her as hard as was considered safe.

''There hasn't been any sign of trouble,'' Aslaug confirmed as they walked to the Great Hall, ''Frankly, it has been a bit dull,'' she smiled.

''That's good,'' Thorunn smiled.

''Were you a good girl?'' Astrid talked to Angrboda as the girl tugged on one of her braids as she always used to.

''Yes,'' she said cutely.

''Promise?''

''Promise.''

''I think Ubba likes her,'' Aslaug grinned.

''Hvitserk too, likely,'' Siggy added with a smile, ''I think they fought yesterday.''

''What?'' Aslaug grinned, ''How did I not see that?'' she fake-frowned and ruffled one of the boys' blonde hair.

''You are much too young to like a boy, Angrboda; do you hear me?'' Astrid told her, barely keeping from laughing. The other women laughed freely when Angrboda nodded in affirmation, barely understanding what she's affirming.

''Now you'll eat and rest and tell me everything,'' Aslaug said at the door.

It was Torstein and Erik who recounted everything that happened while they ate. Then Thorunn and Astrid better explained why exactly they came back early and what else they needed to do.

''It is better like this,'' Astrid concluded. 

''Your home should be protected before any other,'' Thorunn added.

''And this was Lagertha's idea?'' Aslaug smiled, a playful spark in her eyes.

''Yes.''

''Well, I am grateful for her concern, but there is no need to worry,'' she said, ''There have been reports of minor raids up north, but nothing serious. It's just that - minor raids.''

''Two years ago someone conspired against King Ragnar and his line,'' Erik said, reaching for his cup of wine, ''That someone is still out there, and we all know it. It could be just a matter of time. For two years we've been careful, and now we're relaxing again. We cannot afford that.''

''No, we cannot,'' Aslaug frowned, saying it more to herself than anyone else, ''Well, I thank you all. We should be more than well protected now,'' she smiled.

''A few of us are to go to Hedeby as emissaries,'' Astrid said, ''Just a couple of people.''

''I will go if there is no need of me here,'' Thorunn volunteered. 

''No, I want you here,'' Aslaug said with a small smile, ''I want you to be my personal protection for the time being. No need to go to Hedeby. Lagertha has plenty of shield-maidens.''

''Then I will go,'' Astrid said, ''But that means leaving Angrboda to your care yet again. I am sor-''

''She is no burden, Astrid,'' Aslaug assured her before she could finish.

''In fact, she sort of brings balance among the children,'' Siggy chimed in with a smile of her own.

''Are you sure?'' Astrid asked.

''Of course! I mean, I would want you to stay too but for some reason I'm sure there's no way you would,'' Aslaug said.

''No, indeed, I gave my word to Earl Ingstad,'' smiled Astrid coyly.

''I shall go with her,'' Torstein offered.

''No, Torstein. I need you here too. Ragnar's closest friends should stay,'' Aslaug said, ''Erik, will you go to Hedeby with her?''

''As you and Earl Ingstad command, so I shall do.''

''Then that is settled.''

''We should leave as soon as possible. Tomorrow, once we've rested,'' Astrid said.

''That is fine with me,'' Erik said, raising his cup.

Astrid was happy with her choice of escort. Erik was a big man, one of the strongest fighters she'd ever seen, and loyal to the bone. He had come from a far place indeed up north to be able to fight at Ragnar's side. It was no wonder though - once the peoples up north swore fealty to Ragnar, their communities blossomed. Ragnar didn't just rule - Ragnar provided as much as he could. This, in turn, gained him much favor. And that much more hatred from those who wished to be in his place.

As she thought of Erik, Astrid remembered the far north, and her family up there, and the possibility of going back once all of this is done. Could she borrow a ship and a crew? Maybe. Would she... want to go back? She surely missed the people from her old life every time she thought about them. It still hurt too. But she wasn't sure about the answer to that question, and that scared her. She was starting to grow roots here in Kattegat, which was exactly what she promised to herself she would try not to do. How could she ever go back now and stay? So much has happened. So many she has grown to love. But she wanted to see her family again. She had to see them again, to visit them if nothing else. Maybe one day, she'll be able to. Maybe one day, she thought. That 'maybe one day' still hurt every time it appeared in her mind.

But she would do what she had to first. That feeling of apprehension never left her, and she wouldn't rest until she finished every task that was entrusted to her. She would go to Hedeby and see for herself that there is truly no more reason for her to be feeling apprehensive. Everything is alright now. They were home, and they were safe.

With another gulp of wine, she silently prayed to Frigg that she was right.


	12. Hedeby

''I heard your story,'' Erik trotted next to Astrid as they rode on, ''You're a brave lass.''

Erik was good company - he talked but not too much, he was alert but not stressfully so, and he was pleasant to be around. Traveling alone for days can get two people closer, and when you have to travel for days, you have to find a way to pass the time.

Erik was perhaps even taller than Rollo, but he was the absolute contrast of him - silky blonde hair tied back, bushy eyebrows and a long blonde beard with a couple of braids on the sides. He could technically be her father by age, though a young one - his face showed only the wrinkles of middle age. He had a scar on the side of his mouth Astrid could only assume he had gotten in a fight.

Astrid didn't know what to say to Erik's comment, so she didn't say anything.

''I've... I've actually met Dagr,'' Erik continued casually, ''He's a good man, if not of questionable loyalties.''

To Erik, everyone's loyalties were questionable unless they lied with Ragnar. Astrid didn't even mind that. It was what he said first that made her almost jump off her horse.

''You've met my father?!''

''Aye, a long while ago. He keeps a decent Hall up there, but... ah, it's never good up there in the north. The people are scattered, unorganized. They're tribes that answer to no one. It's no good.''

''They're united enough. They stand together and fight together. They shield each other when they raid. Just because they don't lick anyone's boots does not mean they're a bunch of savage animals,'' Astrid retorted with venom. She surprised herself, really; she never saw it coming. Why did it get her this angry? She didn't mean to insult, and she didn't honestly think anyone was licking Ragnar's boots. She was thankful to Ragnar for a lot of reasons. So why all of this?

Thankfully, Erik was a wise man, who did not turn this into an argument. ''It's hard surviving up north is all,'' he said.

It was. Astrid could remember the harsh winters now. She shuddered at the thought of being outside in one of those cold winter evenings. She missed their hall. She missed her family. But in that moment she wished she could bring them further down south. Make them a part of this life.

''I would go back,'' she said, ''If I could.''

Erik quirked an eyebrow. ''You would leave the much more pleasant life here, on the coasts of Kattegat? For the harsh north?''

''It is my family, Erik.''

''The little birds grow up and fly out of their nests eventually. It's how it's supposed to be.''

It was true enough. ''I have to at least see them. They must think I'm dead.''

''It's rough traveling cross-country,'' he reasoned, ''A ship would be much better.''

''Except that I don't have one. And I cannot sail alone.''

''You would die up there, and so would your horse.''

The truth made her shut up temporarily. Erik was right to the bone. The only way she could travel on horse and make it was if she were to know the route so well she could see it in her sleep. She didn't. If she were to set out, she'd be wandering half the time, and the further up north you go, the less you can wander, because settlements are scarcer, and walls and roofs are a luxury. She needed a ship. She had sailed down here. She would have to sail up there.

She thought of Floki. She never even told Thorunn about what happened. For many a reason - one of them being she would have pointed out she had been right. And she hadn't been! Not for certain; that night may not have meant anything at all. It wouldn't be the first time she's with a man for sport, and Astrid could assume it was much the same on his part. They were grown people.

It was a relief to finally see Hedeby. Astrid was getting sick of riding horse. When she approached Lagertha's hall, she couldn't wait to just sit near a fire and drink some wine and not care about anything else.

They stabled their horses, with a few odd looks from the locals - they were strangers after all - before they proceeded to the Hall. Whoever was keeping it in Lagertha's place had to be informed they were sent here by Lagertha herself.

''Should we walk in unannounced?'' Astrid asked quietly, but Erik shrugged. Maybe it wasn't all too smart, seeing as they were still strangers after all, and strangers don't just stroll into other people's halls, especially not into that of an earl.

Astrid basically stopped the first passer-by and sent her to announce their arrival. After a few minutes they were asked to go on in. The sun was already about to set.

Lagertha's hall wasn't much different than Ragnar's in fact, and the fires had her want to shake off all the furs immediately. There were only a couple of servants scattered about and a man sitting in the earl's chair. By only one look Astrid could see he was really handsome, if nothing else. Probably more handsome than king Ragnar for that matter. She didn't want to assume, but she couldn't help but wonder if this man was more than just a friend and loyal to Lagertha.

''Welcome to Hedeby,'' he smiled, opened his arms, and slowly stood up, ''I understand you've come a long way.''

''Earl Ingstad has asked it of us. To return home and make sure everything is as she left it.''

''Well, there have been a few changes,'' the man grinned in a way that Astrid could only describe as charming but kind of sly, ''But all in its time. Now, please - rest, have food. I am Kalf, though you probably already know that. I implore that you enjoy our hospitality.''

Erik thanked him, Astrid nodded, unsure why he seemed so sly to her. Lagertha sure trusted him. And she should trust Lagertha's judgement.

They ate, in Kalf's company, and Erik did most of the talking. Astrid couldn't stop eyeing them. She thought it wiser to just listen and look for a while. After all, her work here was almost done. They were to come, make sure everything's alright, and go back. She'd go back in a few days. Everything seemed fine. No reason to be so distrustful of everyone.

And then, a bit later that evening, some peasant entered the hall and called for Earl Kalf. Astrid almost spit out her wine. It was about some minor local problem Astrid didn't even care to hear about. All she could think about was ''earl Kalf''. Earl? She looked to Erik, but he drank on - he hadn't even caught that. So once Kalf was done speaking to this person and had sent him away, she just blurted it out.

'' _Earl_ Kalf?''

His face melted into a smile so charming, she hated the way it made something flutter in the pit of her stomach. Men this handsome were not a usual sight. 

''People have taken up to calling me that,'' he waved off, as though something completely silly, ''Titles do not interest me.''

''But you are not... earl,'' Astrid said, ''The people do know that.''

It was a question that needed an affirmation, but Kalf evaded it, most probably on purpose.

''You're very loyal to Lagertha, aren't you?''

''She is a good woman.''

''She is,'' Kalf nodded in agreement, ''But I believe you've deserved your rest,'' he finally announced, ''And I'm afraid I have some other matters to attend to. Please, eat some more if you can, and Gerda will show you to your chambers for the night.''

With a final nod to Gerda the servant, he stood up, bid the two guests farewell, and just walked out.

Astrid didn't discuss Kalf with Erik, nor did she think the man was sober enough to seriously discuss him, so she just stared at the ceiling that night for a long time, thinking. Her room was probably the finest one in Hedeby, beautiful furs and decorations everywhere. There were even some scented oils with the bath that she got to use. Still, she could not stop thinking about Kalf in one way or another. On one hand, other than handsome, the man seemed charming and hospitable and very charismatic. On the other, he looked too comfortable in Lagertha's seat, and not to mention that the people referred to him as ''earl''. That was nothing if not wrong. But eventually, she succumbed to the exhaustion and let Kalf flee all of her thoughts.

With her head more clear in the morning, she decided to talk to Kalf some more and especially discuss the matter of what people referred to him as. It was wrong, even though he did rule in her stead temporarily. He was not earl, and there was nothing more to it.

She did find him in the main hall, alone, as the last of the servants had just walked out.

''Good morning,'' he smiled.

''Good morning, Kalf,'' she said. Just Kalf, for good measure.

''You look beautiful, I'll have the liberty to say,'' he said, ''No armor concealing it.''

She almost blushed. Almost. She was wearing a dress, the one that she took with her in the bundle. It was a pretty enough dress in dark green and with some embroidery, but it wasn't anything special. Certainly nothing like the dresses queen Aslaug sometimes wore, or earl Lagertha for that matter. Astrid definitely didn't mean to spend all of her time in tight leather armor.

''Thank you,'' she said, ''Where is Erik?''

''Hunting.''

''Hunting?''

''Gone with some of my men just an hour ago.''

''When will he return?''

''Astrid, I have no idea,'' Kalf smiled. Something just dropped in the pit of Astrid's stomach. Erik was gone, alone, with Kalf's men out there somewhere without them even knowing if they could trust Kalf. Lagertha did. But Astrid just couldn't. Not yet.

''You don't trust me much, do you?'' he asked, as though reading her mind. That charming smile seemed to be constantly plastered on his face, as though he was amused by her.

''It has nothing to do with you, it is how I am. My trust is earned, not given.''

''That seems to be the case with all the women around me these days,'' he stood up from the earl's chair and approached Astrid, ''For some reason I think I wouldn't earn your trust even if I tried,'' he pushed aside a strand of her hair from her face, his face entirely too close to hers. It made her nervous, but she didn't even flinch. He was taller than her, but if he leaned in just a little bit, he would kiss her. That wasn't his intention of course, not the big objective, and Astrid knew. This entire scene was just to make her flustered. And he was succeeding, but she hoped it couldn't be noticed.

''You cannot know that,'' she played along, and hoped it was the right choice.

''Come,'' he becked, ''There is something I wish to show you.''

She followed, and they walked out into the already bustling town.

The further they walked, the more nervous Astrid was becoming now. The flirting had ceased, and now she had thoughts of Erik out there again and her being alone with Kalf somewhere with nothing but a dagger on her. She eyed the small axe at his waist. There was no way he could swing that fast enough for her, she told herself.

But as her racing mind held her occupied, she hadn't even noticed when they reached the river Slien. They were not completely alone in the forested area as she thought they would be, and for a moment she felt silly for being unnecessarily paranoid. There were at least a dozen men that she could see on the shore, minding the ships.

Ships. And not just a couple, but quite a few lined up down the shore. And ships almost as amazing as Floki's. Men were making planks for ships to be built. There were workshops shrouded by the trees, all busy.

This could only be done under Lagertha's orders.

''You _are_ earl, aren't you?'' Astrid just blatantly asked. There was no going around it anymore.

''Does it matter so much? Lagertha's not here.''

''She will come back.''

''To find the place flourishing.''

Astrid looked to the ships. Hedeby was flourishing with Kalf on the seat, which was the worst of it all. She had to admit it at least to herself. The place was much more than she had expected it to be, and she would have marveled at it had she had the time.

But it still didn't make it right.

''The earldom does not belong to you,'' she said.

''Does it not?''

''No, it doesn't.''

''I don't see anyone else around here fit to rule.''

''So you take the first opportunity the rightful ruler turns her back so you could snatch her seat away from her while she's not looking.''

''The people chose me. I didn't take that seat myself. I was placed on it.''

''That is so cowardly!''

''Cowardly? Do you think a coward would have done this to a woman with a king to back her up?!'' even now he grinned somewhat, in all that seriousness. Astrid noticed his teeth were perfectly straight and white. She hadn't seen a man as handsome as him in... well, forever. ''And a king such as Ragnar, no less. Make no mistakes, Astrid. I'm afraid but I'm not a coward.''

''So what happens now? Are you going to have us killed perhaps for this news we intend to bring?'' Astrid taunted, grinning herself, but unlike him, she grinned in spite. 

''Why would I kill you? Especially a pretty woman like you,'' he smiled, ''I don't need to do anything. Lagertha will find out when she comes back anyway. I don't think Aslaug would really act on this news.''

If the man was afraid, he certainly wasn't showing it. He spoke as though not taking any of it seriously. Especially Aslaug's power and intentions.

''Besides, if I were to kill you, I wouldn't do it like a common criminal,'' he added.

''Do you think you could beat me in a fair duel?''

''Why? Are you a great warrior?'' he teased.

''Greater than you. I don't conquer with deceit.''

''Well, I would accept the challenge, if you were to propose. Out of curiosity, if nothing else,'' he smirked.

''I don't want to fight you. I would gain nothing from it.''

''If you were to beat me as you say you would, you'd gain my earldom.''

''Lagertha's earldom.''

''Whatever you say,'' he smiled, and in that very moment Kalf reminded her so much of Ragnar it almost startled her. The smirk, the glint in his eyes - it hit her instantly.

''I do not want her earldom.''

''You are not ambitious at all?'' he asked, eyebrows furrowed, completely amused by her apparently. It made her want to punch him in the nose.

''You do not know me. I have ambitions of my own, but I plan to execute them with honor.''

''Honor,'' he chuckled, ''Honor won't get you far. Besides, honor doesn't exist. It's this vague idea men came up with to excuse their pathetic mischances.''

''I would like to go now. Is Erik safe?''

''Of course he is,'' Kalf stepped up to her again, entirely too close, much like before, ''In fact, probably a lot safer than you are.''

''Is that a threat?''

''Oh, I don't mean it like that,'' he smiled so close to her lips he was almost kissing her.


End file.
